Ultimatum: Omniscience
by MRAY 4TW
Summary: We've all been there. 'Boy, what a stupid question.' If an omniscient being existed on earth that could answer any question you had without any trickery or beating about the bush, what question is important enough? Any question? What if asking the question, removes ten years off your pre-destined life span as forfeit? Is the answer still that valuable?
1. Chapter 1

**Omniscience**

 **Everthing about this story is mine. (Hopefully) The idea is completely unique and original and it came to mind while I was working on B. Limits. It's a one shot but if needs be, I'll work on it a little more, huh? Also, I refrained from putting area and location specifics so hopefully, everyone could relate to the story.**

 **Goal: 15k**

 **Claimer: This fic is all mine. Lawyers, go suck a lemon and leave me be! Unless you want to help me out by suing other people.**

 **We've all been there. 'Boy, what a stupid question.' If an omniscient being existed on earth that could answer any question you had without any trickery or beating about the bush, what question is important enough? Any question? What if asking the question, removes ten years off your pre-destined life span as forfeit? Is the answer still that valuable?**

 **XxX**

Every year, it changed. Out of everyone on the planet, a person is seemingly randomly chosen by some otherworldly being or influences to become completely Omniscient. They would have the…'Gift' for exactly thirty days before they died. The 'lucky' person got the gift on the start of a month with exactly thirty days in it. Like April or June. But to just die without any causes found in autopsies? A bit spooky, isn't it?

Some view it as a gift. To be able to answer every question without fail, no doubt a miracle, straight form the throne of God, or any other Deity or 'Alien' one worshipped. It would be a philosopher's dream, to have every question answered. Only ten years? I can live without that, you might say. What if you were supposed to die in ten years? Is the question is still that important?

Others view it as a curse. To be able to answer every question without fail, no doubt a damnation, straight from the pits of Hell, or any other 'Bad' Deity or 'Alien' one worshipped. It would be a household's nightmare, to have every question answered. Only ten years? I can live without that, you might say. What if you were supposed to die in ten years? Is the question still that important?

"Is there life out there in space?" One could argue that it's an important question, saying that it would be good to know. Others would say it would be worthless knowledge. 'So aliens exist? Who cares? They don't care about us!'

"Where's the television remote?" One would say that it a most ridiculous question, why waste ten years on that question? Are you crazy? That could be either good knowledge or useless knowledge. The television could have faulty buttons and the remote's the only key to operating it? So?

Your favorite series is about to end on a certain channel. And the television…is currently on the wrong channel.

"So? Watch it later or find out later, I guess."

Due to a source of bad luck, it will only be aired once and all video streaming sites have the clip in horrible quality, near useless? Still unimportant?

It's all opinion.

Three years ago, an American maid became the oracle for the brief time period. Along with being fairly isolated, someone finally asked **the** question.

"What's the meaning and purpose of Life?"

He asked the question privately and when he came back out from the meeting, he was incredibly depressed and disappointed. He later committed suicide by hanging himself and left a small note, penning the words 'It's not worth living.'

And everyone in all their wisdom, although curious, didn't ask the maid what she had told him. They would have tried to find someone who already felt suicidal or something of the sort to ask her but by the time someone suitable enough was found, the maid's time as the 'Gifted' had expired, and so had she.

That's how it went. A scholar once argued that it was a horrible curse, knowing everything but to ask who would mean that you had to give up too much, the price was horrible. 'It was as if dangling poisoned food in front of a starving man.' To not eat, would mean agony and a slow death while eating it could similarly cause a slow death, or speed it up, depending on the poison's potency.

And the oracle was no different. Knowing everthing was already a mixed curse and blessing but one knew they would die inside thirty days and all one could do was sit and wait for it, maybe put one's own household in order. Or prematurely end one's own life on their own terms. But being the moronic creatures that the human race is composed of, we cling to life, although we all know it ends far too soon.

We don't need Omniscience to know that.

 **XxX**

Keith was in a hurry. He was currently running late for his favorite show that was aired on his local station. He had been following it up for a long time and he had never missed a segment.

The warm June air made him perspire as he speed-walked through his frequently used shortcut to get home. He was cutting it close. His show would start in ten minutes and from where he was, he would reach home in twelve.

'Hopefully, the opening song will play and then the show will 'cut' for advertisements for another minute before it starts.' He thought.

In another minute, he was soon humming and whistling the opening tune from memory and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of it.

'Eight minutes left.' He guessed, counting on his internal body clock.

He rounded a sharp corner in a relatively unfrequented area and bumped into someone as he turned. He was promptly pushed back by a calloused palm out of the person's 'personal' space and he eyed them carefully. The person was dressed in some sort of halfway point between casual and party-going with a polo shirt that was unbuttoned to show off their neck and chest along with some three-quarter pants and crepe-soles.

They had one hand out in front of Keith to stop him and their other hand at their side with the palm behind him. Keith stared at the man who brought out his other hand from behind him to reveal a red spotted handkerchief and pointed it at the boy's chest. Keith's eyes widened as he eyed what was wrapped _inside_ the fabric. He beheld a 9mm black steel pistol and the man smirked.

"Gimme everything you got, now. Money, cell phone, everthing!" The man hissed.

Keith stared open mouthed in horror as his heart-beat sped up exponentially. His pupils constricted in his terror and the boy stood, paralyzed.

"I said **now**!" The man snarled.

The boy still stared.

The man brandished his gun at the boy threateningly. "What are you, stupid?"

Hardly was the question spoken then man dropped his weapon and his eyes stared upwards, revealing whites. He crumpled into a heap on the ground, the gun falling to the ground, bouncing twice, then stayed.

" _ **No, I'm infinitely wise.**_ " Keith said. Immediately, the lad clapped his hand over his mouth, amazed at what he had just said, coupled along with mixed confusion and horror at what had just transpired. The muscle responsible for pumping his blood let up some, but not much as he tried to gather his bearings.

'What…what just happened? And what did I just say?' He gazed at what looked to be a now dead criminal on the hard ground. Oh God, what just happened?'

He soon came to a more effective state of mind as he took out his cell phone and quickly dialed the emergency number.

 _Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…_

"Come on, come on, pick up, pick up."

" _Hello, good afternoon, what is your emergency."_ The dispatcher said in slightly bored-sounding monotone.

"Yeah, I'm reporting an emergency."

" _What kind of emergency?"_

" _ **The emergency is that of a near robbery and death of my potential assailant.**_ " Keith said in a strange voice. He cleared his throat, starting to wonder what the hell was wrong with him.

" _Where did this take place?_ "

Keith could feel the boredom and doubt in her voice but he answered again, nonetheless. 'Maybe she thinks this is a prank call.' He thought absentmindedly.

" **At the corner of Main Street and Charles avenue."** He replied in that new strange voice, confusing the hell out of himself.

" _Hang on, we're going to send over a patrol shortly. He should already be in the area, though. If he fails to appear, call again. Good day."_

The dispatcher hung up and Keith scratched his head, still wondering what was going on with himself today. It was his first time acting like this.

He looked down and saw the gun of his attempted killer and pushed it away daintily with his foot, afraid it might go off.

'Oh geez. I'm running late for my show. I wonder if it's filler or important to the main storyline?' He looked down at the man lying on the ground dead and shook his head.

'Here I am, thinking about my show and I nearly died and the crook dead at my feet. Something really must be wrong with me.'

 **This is my first story I didn't plan before hand and I'll be making it up as I go along. My aim is maybe ten to fifteen thousand words but I'll try to keep the story as practical and down to earth as possible.**

 **In the meantime, what kind of question do you think is important enough to pay the cost of ten years? Don't worry, you can ask me a question or two. You won't die…**

 **Today…Heh Heh.**

 **Tell the world (and me) what kind of question you would ask, if any at all in a review.**

 **Until next time.**

 **Sayonara…wait a minute… this ain't one of my Naruto stories!**

 **Goodbye people…Sincerely,**

 **Mray 4TW.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Omniscience**

 **Well, here's chapter two. It's a 'real' chapter and I hope my sis is happier about that. She was trying to beta the first chapter and she complained that it felt too much of a commentary.**

 **Here, take it and you're welcome.**

 **Claimer: I own this. Sadly, I'm not really benefiting, besides the fact that I'm doing something 'constructive' with my time. *Sigh*.**

 **2.**

The policeman was not what he expected. He expected a lean man, perhaps six feet tall and a pistol on a holster at his hip. Maybe some rough-looking stubble on his face.

What he saw, was what he should have expected. A stereotypical, overweight, out-of-shape, pot-bellied, fast food munching, soft-nosed cop who had probably seen one too many 'Sole Survivor' type of movies that was acted by muscular actors with hero complexes.

"Alright sonny, what's the problemmmm…" The man trailed off as he saw the dead man. "Looks like he met up in his dead end. Just tell me what caused this, sonny."

Keith couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I dunno. He tried to rob me with that gun in that kerchief, asks me if I'm stupid and then…he's dead."

"Well, goddamn. The Civvies tax money don't pay me well enough to be an investigator. I'm just gonna call the morgue to come pick up the body. In the meantime, I want you to describe everything that happened."

Pleas in the back of his mind for him to go home to watch his show were quelled as he obliged and spoke slowly as the policeman penciled everything down on a note pad that appeared to have once been used for a grease napkin. Finally getting everthing down, the policeman told Keith to phone his parents and tell them what happened.

Needless to say, when he called them separately what happened, they were _not_ happy. They both worked fairly difficult and monotonous career jobs that made sure that if someone sneezes without covering their mouth, they were getting fired. They were just too busy without any time windows to leave. So, his mom told his father and vice versa and both agreed to make Teresa, his elder sister to meet him at the station. She was a teacher and since school was nearly on break, the learning syllabus was clean of any learning tasks and she had nothing but free time

 **Upon meeting at the Station** …

"Holy crap! I'm starting to wonder of you killed that guy with your breath when you answered him!"

"My breath does not stink! But yours right now makes me want to cut off my own nose and eat it just to stop smelling it!"

They were always doing this. Keith was just on sixteen but Teresa had now been twenty five years old for several months. Given their age difference, no would have thought they would get along as two seven year olds, but strangely enough, they did.

"So, what are they doing now?" Latoya asked, after giggling a bit.

"They must be logging the report or something." Her brother figured.

They both sat patiently on a bench that was ridiculously hard and waited for someone to talk back to them and hopefully, let them leave. Soon enough, a door was opened on the other side of the hall where they sat and a head poked out from behind the door. "Keith Smith and Teresa Smith. You can come in."

The door was left ajar and the two siblings got off the uncomfortable seat and went inside the office, eager for a better one to sit in. Latoya shut the door behind her and sat across from the man, alongside her brother.

"My name is Roberts."

"Smith. I thought we could leave now?"

"Well, you should have, Ms. Smith." The man agreed. "Unfortunately, this is just too bizarre and they're a few things I'd like to confirm. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the incident, I think it would be wise if we were all extra careful."

"Why?"

"That's why." The man answered, much to the woman's confusion.

"Questioning. That's what I'm afraid of. From his account, and based off the fact that the man was just dead with no noticeable signs of anything that could cause him to die slowly or quickly is still nil. The thing is, the only people to die like that are oracles."

"Oracles?! The woman's eyes bulged. "That man was an oracle?!"

"No."

Keith, at that answer, started to sweat. He really hoped that the policeman wasn't talking about him.

"I'm talking about Keith here. **He** might be an Oracle."

"That's ridiculous!" The young woman laughed. "Keith! 'Infinitely wise'! He still uses Velcro!"

"It's easier than tying laces! Besides, I can tie my own shoes. You know that!" Keith yelled at her in exasperation, only making her laugh more.

"You may think it's preposterous. " The man said seriously. "In the policeman's log, Keith said he answered in a voice that was not like his own and he answered all questions in a manner not expected for someone of his age or reasoning."

"So? That doesn't prove anything." Keith had heard all about oracles. Everyone did and he had read up on them not too long ago on the internet. And his voice _did_ match how it was said they sounded. He also knew how they were treated, how they lived, how long before they died…

"Do you know why we took so long to call you, Ms. Smith?"

"No. Why?" She calmed down now.

"The dispatcher who Keith here called was a fifty year old woman named Mary Johnson. I would say that the average living age is mid seventies to eighties."

"And…?"  
"She was found dead at her desk. And Keith, in the report, had answered two questions. If the average life span is mid seventies, her death was accelerated."

"Shit."

Keith was hyperventilating, but still could not get enough air. 'I'm an oracle, I'm an oracle, shitshitshitshitshitshitshit….'

"Calm down, little bro. I'm sure these are just bizarre incidences. Besides, when the policeman who came to you wrote in his notepad as you said, you didn't answer him funny."

The detective decided to butt in. "I've gone through that report three times. He wasn't asked to. It was more of a demand or an order. A statement that was forceful, not a plea."

"Well, still…"

"If you're so sure, why don't you ask him a question. I'm sure you've noticed that it's the month of June, a month with _exactly thirty days._ You also noticed that I've made sure to avoid asking him questions. You may risk it now, but I'm not interested."

His sister had definitely lost her nerve now as she eyed her brother clutching his head and hyperventilating. She patted his back trying to calm him down. But it was more for herself than for him, in a sense.

"Keith." She spoke carefully.

"Are you an-"

"Don't ask me anything!" He slapped her hand away. "I don't want you to die earlier than you should!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted.

"Well, I'll become a vegan or something!" She yelled back. Besides, I have to know! Keith, are you an oracle?!"

The voice came back and sounded like it reverberated around the room. " _ **Yes**_."

"Oh my God." She gasped.

Mr. Roberts's breath hitched in his throat as well, thinking of the implications. Keith, on the other hand passed out from his own shock, toppling to the side out of his chair.

 **And so it begins. This part was mostly based off my relationship with my older sister and how we would react. The ages…are not ours. Nor are the names. But she chose that one, as I did mine. Besides, for still being a beta, she got some sort of screen time. Good for you, sis!**

 **She was also hoping to post some poems using my account, hope she does. By posting this, she'll know that she** _ **has to.**_

 **Goodbye people…Sincerely,**

 **Mray 4TW.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Omniscience**

 ***Sips coffee and places the mug on table carefully* Sunday nights bring insomnia. Might as well be focused while I type this.**

 **Claimer: I own this story and the ideas presented. Unless you can dig up something that shows this was all done before which is highly unlikely.**

 **3.**

Teresa propped her unconscious brother in the back passenger seat and strapped him in with the sear belt. He drooped a little but still remained upright. Pleased that she was able to do so, she got in her driver's seat and started the car. Soon pulling out of the Police Station's parking lot, she waited for a break in the traffic and joined in the line, longing to get home.

It had started out as very normal day. Had some oats for breakfast, drive to school, watch her students play against each other in games via the internet with their laptops and tablets. Next, have some lunch preordered before lunchtime in the teacher's lounge, read a book and go home to her apartment.

The whole day she had wished for something to happen and now, she's gotten it. She got home and was about to order some food over the phone from some food delivery service and her mother called and told her about Keith's mishap.

" _No big deal. I'll drive over to the station."_ She had replied. She had eagerly gotten up to do it, satisfied that she now had a break from her now monotonous lifestyle.

And now this crap falls into her plate.

'Am _I_ responsible for bringing this on Keith? By wishing for something to happen?' The thought dominated her mind, barely able to focus solely on driving. She glanced up in the rearview mirror at her passed-out sibling. 'If it is me, then I'm responsible for Keith having a month to live and me? Ten years less, I suppose. I would deserve it for wishing this. But even then, I would-'

*Honk!*

*BEEEEEP!*

"DRIVE!"

"C'MON, WAKE UP!"

"GODDAMNIT LADY! DRIVE! THE LIGHT'S GREEN, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

She was released from the labyrinth of her thoughts and glanced up at the light. It was indeed on green. Embarrassed, she accelerated again as the noise behind her ceased as quickly as it started. Halfway to her house, she realized that she needed to get Keith back to _his_ home and had to double back to the turnoff. Finally reaching her parent's house, she inched into the driveway carefully and stopped, killing the engine.

It was at this point that Keith started to stir as she got out of the car and slammed her door shut. Opening the passenger door, she was about to ask him if he was alright when she clapped her hand over her mouth.

She had forgotten so quickly and easily?

In an instant, everything had changed for her and Keith.

Especially Keith.

Did he realize that?

He must have sensed her distressed realizations and smiled, albeit weakly, at her blurred image as his eyes refocused. "Hey, Terry. Where are we?"

"We're home. Let's go inside." She motioned her head towards the house.

The teen blinked his eyes to get used to the light and took off his seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, he closed the door and watched his sister lock the doors with the remote on her car key. Hearing it beep twice, they turned and walked to the house's front entrance and entered with Keith's house-key. Going inside, Teresa eyed the interior. Nothing had really changed since her last visit, save for a shifting for piece of furniture or two. The whole house was what she described as home that belonged to lower-upper middle class people.

Keith wasn't into the whole 'watch some TV' at the moment so he bounded up the stairs to the bathroom, took out a strip of painkillers for his growing headache and took them. Without waiting for the effect to kick in, he immediately went to his room and stretched out on his bed, eager to wake up to find out this was all some horrible dream.

But no such release came.

 **With Roberts**

The detective rubbed his temples in stroking circles, trying to keep his migraine at bay. It had been an outstanding day, that's for sure.

It was not an easy feat for someone like him to admit that. He was always getting difficult cases to solve, being one of the Key Investigators for that piece of land where he had jurisdiction. It was quite large, larger than what was deemed normal so his responsibilities were larger, being in direct proportions.

From ever since, he was buried in his work and took his job very seriously, never letting cases get cold and solving conundrums and connecting that usually presented themselves at a crime scene. He himself had one of the sharpest minds that part of the country had ever produced and he had never squandered it. He applied it to every case, stopping murderers, catching thieves, ending career criminals.

All of them, except for one.

He had failed to find out who had killed Nicoya Roberts, his own wife.

It was her murder that was the catalyst for him becoming so devout. To become so involved and _buried_ in what he did for a living. While he had been going through the motions in his job, his soul-mate got killed, out of the blue without warning, prior threats, crime scene evidence.

His wife…stabbed in the heart.

After a year of mourning, he had sworn to himself to find her killer but it had now been eight years since her demise and he, no closer than when he first started. He had hit a wall and there was no way above, around or under it.

But there was a new path. A new, dangerous one.

The boy. The latest Oracle to emerge.

He was Omniscient. He would know who the killer was. All someone needed to do was ask him a direct question to trigger the ability.

It was so ridiculously simple, it was probably illegal. Just ask a question and get the answer. He just needed to pay ten years of his life.

He was helping to solve dozens, maybe close to a hundred crimes by living. To have his life cut short by a decade… What if he was fated to die before retirement? Then it would have been a waste.

But he was tired of going home to an empty house, and crying himself to sleep every night.

 **Well, I created some drama, that's for sure. I focused on Teresa's development by her concern for her brother and decided to use the detective for a main character instead of just a passing mention. And now, because of him, I've now got a plot.**

 ***Eyelids droop***

 **Huh? Must've have fallen asleep on the keyboard. G'night people.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **Mray 4TW**


	4. Chapter 4

**Omniscience**

 **My original story continues.**

 **Claimer: I own this story, as well as ideas presented. Unfortunately, I am not benefitting financially.**

 **4.**

Dinner at the Smith household was a quiet affair tonight. Several things were a tad unusual.

For one, Teresa was normally at her house, but tonight was probably an exception. Another thing was that Keith was usually very talkative, especially when he was around his older sister. This should be even more so, seeing that he was held up at gunpoint earlier, he would have been spinning a fantastic yarn with some exaggerations here and there. He was very theatrical and overly dramatic.

Lastly, why was he eating his meal in his room alone?

Mr. Smith helped himself to some more gravy that he distributed over his white rice. "Is it just me, or is this house a little too quiet?"

Teresa ate silently and deliberately, as if not noticing his comment. Mrs. Smith's eyes wandered from her husband to her daughter and back again, wondering what was going on. She said nothing but halfway through the meal and enduring nothing but the unusual silence, she lost her patience.

"What is going on? Why's Keith in his room and not here around the table? He knows that family must be present here for supper, no excuses!" She exclaimed, slightly frustrated.

Teresa looked up and glanced at the calendar behind her mother. Her gaze quickly lowered back down and she pushed her food away from her, mumbling something.

"What is it, dearie? Not feeling well?" Mr. Smith asked. He raised an eyebrow in worry, suddenly getting a bad feeling. Did something happen to any of his children when he was at work? A fight perhaps? Sure they insulted each other but that was done playfully. 'Maybe one of them went to far this time. That's why they're not speaking, least of all to each other and Keith denying us his presence.' He reasoned.

"I'm not hungry." Teresa mumbled, allowing her parents to hear her better.

"Eat anything before dinner? You know how your mother gets angry when she 'slaves over a stove to cook food purchased with money she slaved for.'" The man quoted.

His wife nodded in agreement. She abhorred arriving home late from work and then having to cook. 'Keith better learn how to cook soon. I want a break from the kitchen.'

"No…I didn't eat anything before dinner. It's just…" Teresa trailed off as tears welled up in her eye and trickled down her cheek.

"Marcus, she's crying! What's wrong Teresa?" The woman grew worried and her husband next to her had his feelings of worry suddenly increase ten-fold.

The young woman choked back a sob. "Mom…Dad…Keith's going to die…and it's my fault."

"What? That's preposterous! Teresa, make sense!" Her mother half-yelled.

"He's going to die at the end of the month."

Marcus got up from his seat and ambled around the table to his daughter's side. He knelt down on one knee and rested his palm on her shoulder. "Teresa. Please explain. If anything's happened to Keith, we need to know. We love him as much as you do."

When she was younger, she felt comforted and consoled whenever her father adopted this psychological posture. It had always worked, from when she fell of her first bicycle to when her grandmother (father's side) died, it worked.

She got up from her chair and her father stood up as well. She flung herself into his arms and started bawling into his chest while Mrs. Smith looked on at the scene.

"Keith's the Oracle for this year." She let out between sobs. She stared at the calendar hanging over her mother's head.

The parents both gasped but quickly reassumed their image of strength. "How did you find out? Is it even true?" Her father asked. He had always fancied himself as a rational person and this was too farfetched and too unbelievable to entertain the notion of his son being Omniscient. At least, not without proof.

"It's true. It's how the gunman died and the police dispatcher who asked him questions. People like his robber don't tend to live long, and the policewoman was in her fifties and asked him two questions. They're both dead. He had answered their questions in a strange voice and he answered me the same way."

"If you think he was an Oracle, what made you think that you should even ask him a question?" Her mother yelled.

"I asked him if he was one. I knew that Oracles can't lie when they are answering questions and Keith said he was one. Even if it was just a huge coincidence, Keith wouldn't have lied in such a manner about something like that and would have just said no." She started sobbing again. "He said 'Yes'!"

"Oh God." Mrs. Smith brought two of her hands to her face and covered it. Mr. Smith did something similar and clenched his eyes closed. It was a bit of a human instinct to close one's eyes when something disastrous happened, as if wishing that it was not true, or hoping that it was a figment of one's imagination; to reopen them to find that it was already gone.

Marcus looked at his daughter still bawling into his chest and recalled what she had said earlier. "Why did you say that it was your fault, Teresa?"

"I was… in a rut and I wished all day for something to happen. And now, Keith's the Oracle." She said between sobs.

"That's silly." Her mother cut in. "It's not your fault. If he really is the Oracle, he became one yesterday. Today's the second of June," She said, eyeing the calendar. She suddenly froze. "That's why you were looking at it so much." She whispered.

Despite the low volume of speech, Teresa still heard. "He's going to die at the last minute before next month."

 **That's it for now. Next chapter(s) should be out soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Omniscience**

 **And so it continues. Sunday night again and I have completed my 2k quota for my chapter-a-day schedule. Gonna lay off the coffee this time and let my sister beta all the 'half-asleep' errors I'm prone to make. In fact, she's right behind me, currently using Whatsapp on her phone. Wake me if you hear me snore!**

 **Claimer: I own this fic. Or rather, I should say, I own this** _ **story.**_ **That sounds more professional.**

 **5.**

It was very confusing.

He knew all…and at the same time, he knew nothing.

It was as if he was in a dreamless state but was still aware of every large and minute detail of the universe.

It threatened his mental stability. If this kept up for much longer, that stability might just crumble into oblivion.

His eyes opened at last after what had seemed to be an eternity. At first, all he saw was the white of his pillow but turning over unto his back; he took in the sight of his ceiling. He had it specially decorated to look like the night sky and there were some whit pepper-lights in the star-designs that twinkled in rhythm. He had done it himself when he was fascinated with the idea of being an astronaut from three years ago. As predicted, he grew out of it but he kept up the ceiling design. It really helped him to sleep well at night.

But now?

It provided a healthy distraction but it soon failed. All he could think about was what he knew about Oracles dying at the end of the month. There was so much he hadn't done, so much he hadn't seen…so much…

And the irony of which, he 'knew' all that would have happened in his life and at the same time, he didn't. This was definitely a curse. Although a few times while doing examinations in the past he had wished he knew all the answers. It was really funny how life works out. It was like having a popular person for an intimate friend. Sure, it would be 'fun' with all the perks one gets such as their own popularity but if and when the relationship is terminated, everyone knew about it. And that was _not_ a good thing.

He got off his bed and took down his laptop off his shelf. Quickly booting it up from hibernation, he connected to his home's Wi-Fi and was soon surfing the web. He clicked on his search engine and typed in the word 'Oracle.'

The search results became listed quickly and he scanned it quickly with his eyes, looking for what would be the most useful link. Spotting one, he clicked it.

He was soon entrapped in what he was researching. News clippings came and went. Articles came and went. Blogs came and went. Discussions came and went! Videos, images, commentaries, interviews with families! And yet nothing was helping!

He was about to give up and turn off the computer when he saw the link at the very end of the page. Not knowing what to expect, he clicked it and almost immediately, a recount was being told by a previous Oracle. He was suspicious of it at first and was about to click the 'Back' button when a line caught his eye.

 _It was the tenth of November, marking a week since my family has abandoned me._

He didn't know why, but he read on nonetheless.

 _Ever since Grandma asked me what I wanted for breakfast and her unfortunate passing, I've been treated as if I had the Bubonic Plague. No matter how much I pleaded for some understanding, none was received._

He started to wonder if his family would start treating him the same way. He figured that he wouldn't mind so much, since he was very introverted sometimes but what he feared was if he **gave** them a reason to treat him like that? Like what if Teresa died young? Would he be accused of that?

'No. I tried to stop her. She persisted and she knew what would happen. I just hope that she continues to live a happy and productive life, even though mine is pretty much over.'

 _I just get some money thrown at me and I'm told to just go stay in one of my Uncle John's houses. He's rich and owned multiple homes that he rented. He had some sympathy on me and took the pittance I got and gave me his best available home, as well as enough food to feed a couple of families for three months. I thanked him fervently for his generosity. I sensed that he wanted to say something more but I reminded him of my curse of being an Oracle. He replied by saying he understood and told me to make myself as comfortable as possible. He knew that I would soon die but I had always thought that I was always his favorite niece. Although there was a lot of entertainment and the like to keep me occupied, the thirtieth was the worst in my opinion._

 _I'm here, waiting to die in the most unimaginable way possible. I'm playing some video games online and I purposely removed my headphones. Someone had once asked me to play his way and I hope I didn't somehow kill him too early in life. There I was, playing and suddenly, I knew everything that was going on in my opponent's heads before they even did what they set out to do._

 _It was like… I knew all. Completely so, all in my head without anyone asking. And it's One p.m. in the afternoon at the time. I got up and made myself a snack and while I was lathering my bread slices with peanut butter, I was thinking that the electricity was going to surge and I would lose the connection to the Internet briefly._

 _Suddenly, the su-_

The laptop hibernated by itself, screen fading to black quickly. Keith glanced down at the light of the battery indicator and it was flashing red. He sighed and went for the charger-cable and plugged it in. No sooner that he did that was he turning the laptop back on again.

 **And scene. Wow, I haven't made any visible mistakes. But just in case… I'll just press 'F7'.**

 **Holy crap. That many? Sis, come take care of this.**

 **Sis- Can't you see that I'm involved in way too many conversations?**

 **Me- Fine. I'll do it myself this time.**

 **Goodnight people. Sincerely,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Omniscience**

 **I really should be in bed right now. It's 1:12 am and I can't sleep. And typing this late tends to- (Yawn). Perfect. Hardly thirty words and it's already working.**

 **Claimer: This is an all original fanfiction. Perhaps I could take this to my friends/acquaintances and show them that I am a writer or some crap like that. Yeah. A writer.**

 **6.**

They came to grips with the fact that Keith was the Oracle, _the Oracle_ for this year, as far-fetched as it had sounded. Mr. and Mrs. Smith kept trying to console each other while Teresa looked on, trying to think of what to do next.

'What should Keith do? Get religion? Write farewell letters to everyone?'

Her mother bawled in Marcus' chest while he hushed her and patted her back. "Now, now, Joanna. This isn't the end of the world."

"I'm losing my baby boy, Marcus!" She exclaimed through a sob.

"He's fine. At the very least, we have him until the end of the month." Marcus tried to reassure, but in his mind, he could tell that what he just said had to be the worst reassurance ever. 'Until the end of the month? How is that supposed to make any of us feel better? Furthermore, how is Keith handling all of this right now?'

"I don't know how to say this, but the very least we can do is to make him comfortable." Teresa said suddenly."

"Comfortable? Now it sounds as if he has cancer or something!" The older woman nearly yelled in her emotional fit. "I'll never get to see him graduate, drive his first car, marry, and have kids, none of those things. Oh God!"

Mr. Smith held her by the shoulder and gently escorted her to their bedroom, hoping she would cry herself out. On the way to their room, they passed Keith's and he couldn't hear his son in the room. He hoped he was sleeping and couldn't hear his mother weeping, crying her eyes out.

Said boy was too engrossed in what he was reading to notice. 'What happened? Geez, it's almost eerie, what with the way it just shut off like that.'

His web browser 'restored' the internet page he was reading from and he continued.

 _Suddenly, the surge happened and I just watched as it completely broke the light bulbs in the kitchen where I was but I found myself under the table with my peanut-butter sandwich. No doubt I had unconsciously gone there before the surge took place. It lasted less than a second but I remained there, eating my food as if nothing was wrong._

 _As if._

 _I'm scheduled to die in mere hours, I know everthing in the Universe and I'm eating a P-b sandwich under the table. Everything was peachy._

Keith strolled down a little, spotting that the writer was about to rant.

 _It was official. I knew all, without anyone asking questions. I also know one more detail about this knowledge but something is keeping me from writing the name. It's not meant for mortal ears or vision for that matter. In fact, there are a lot of things I now know. Questions that will be asked. And they should never be answered._

 _Keith Smith, don't tell anyone the answers._

The boy's eyes widened and his heart began racing. He glanced back at the line and sure enough, it read the same.

 _Keith Smith, don't tell anyone the answers._

He continued reading, now certain he was dreaming.

 _No, you're not dreaming, Keith. All people, namely Kemar Boyd, Dan Martiller, Amara Hayes and Jolene Gayle, please leave this website and allow me to speak to Keith alone. Boyd, Leave. Yeah, I'm talking to the one from the year 2018. And stop thinking you're crazy. I know what's going on in your head._

The boy didn't know what to do. In fact, he was seriously considering throwing his laptop away and making a run for it, screaming bloody murder.

 _Alright, he left or will leave, I should say. Keith, I know what will happen and all time paradoxes created. For the best attainable future, you need to avoid answering these questions at all costs. I know you will but to ensure this does not happen, you will need to wear headphones. Turn 'em up real loud._

 _What is the true religion/god?_

 _What's the meaning/purpose of life/living?_

 _When/If there's an apocalypse and who/what causes it?_

 _What happens after death?_

 _Which country will be the next superpower?_

 _Avoid these questions on these days of your Oracle time period- June._

 _5_ _th_ _, 6_ _th_ _, 8_ _th_ _, 16_ _th_ _, 25_ _th_ _, 29_ _th_ _._

 _Wear headphones those days. The people asking will be persistent._

 _It's fine to answer any other questions, like monetary investments, gambling and such. It's cool; just make sure they donate money to the poor and all that jazz. Just leave a message when you're gone, like I'm doing now._

 _All I ask is that you tell my family I love them. You'll know the numbers on the 30_ _th_ _._

 _Especially Uncle John. Also, tell him that he should shave his goatee. It doesn't suit him. When you know what it looks like, you'll see what I mean._

 _I'm going to pass into the black in an hour. We'll see each other there. I just know it._

 _Cynthia- Oracle for June, 2006._

 _P.S. - Do you see why my family didn't like me? They thought I had the mark of the beast, you know, from the Bible. They kicked me out on the 6_ _th_ _. They got really scared when the date said 06/06/06. T-T_

Keith chuckled, despite himself. This girl sounded like someone who could have gotten along with. It was a pity she wasn't around anymore.

He plugged his phone into his laptop and started loading all of his favorite songs unto it, particularly that of his Hard Rock collection. He thought it would be best if he prepared from now. Besides, if it was for the best possible future, then he needed to play his part.

 **And that's it. It's now 2:21 a.m. and I feel like… sleeping for days. Maail99, those questions were inspired by your message. Go figure. Hope you all enjoyed the twist I did and honestly, what Cynthia wrote was starting to creep** _ **me**_ **out, and I'm the one writing it!**

 **Goodnight people.**

 **Sincerely,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Omniscience**

 **It continues. It's 7:56pm. I've finished typing B. Limits for the week so I can continue on this to keep myself occupied.**

 **Claimer: I own this. In fact, I might start an 'Ultimatum' series of one-shots. I write for me but some reviews would be nice. I know other people read this. Hmph, lazy-ass readers.**

 **7.**

He finished loading the songs and set them up to play in a randomized playlist. Now satisfied, he turned off the laptop and left his room to go to the kitchen, carrying the phone with him along with Bluetooth headphones. He didn't wear them over his ears, however. He instead wore it on his neck.

He went down the stairs quickly, hemming and hawing before going into the kitchen to announce to whomever who may be in there that he was coming. He realized that while he was basically given a very short expiration date, he needed to caution others of his presence. There was no need for someone to yell a question in alarm. Entering it, he noticed his sister drinking a glass of water by the sink and her face looking a bit puffy and disheveled as if she was crying.

He raised an eyebrow at this. "Were you crying or something?"

She finished the drink and placed the cup in the sink. "Eh. Yeah."

"Why?"

"I…told our parents. They know and they believed me." She answered. She looked like she was fighting to hold back the waterworks in her eyes.

"Its…fine. While I don't know how, or why, it's like I don't care I'm going to die at the end of the month. Maybe in the last week I'll cry for my life or something, but now, I feel relatively normal." He laughed at this. "Although normal just went south and I don't think it's coming back."

"But…"

He held up his hands. "Just don't ask me any questions."

She went silent at this and wondered what she could say next. It was then that she remembered what the detective had said.

'Hmm. I just can't ask him a direct question or the ability will be triggered. There must be a way for him to even answer yes and no to simple questions without it! I'm just gonna have to go out on a limb and hope for the best.' "So you believe. Anyway, your dinner is on the table, under the dish-cover."

"I'm not hungry. Maybe tomorrow I'll just get a big breakfast."

"Hmm. I'm sure you know what it tastes like."

"No. I don't know what it tastes like."

Teresa's eyes widened. "Ha! I did it! On my first try too!"

"Did what?!"

"You didn't know what it tastes like."

It was now his turn for his eyes to widen and so it did, almost to the size of dinner plates. "You're right. But how?"

"Easy! I asked you an indirect question that asked you for an affirmation of my statement as a fact but you said no. You could have said yes too and it still would have worked. It would have triggered your Omniscient state of I had asked you what the dinner tasted like."

"Well…yeah! It's good to know that there is even a small way around it!" He hugged his sister, who reciprocated the action. "But I guess it only works with a yes or know. If I get asked for a detailed answer, that's ten years gone. Besides, what if someone slips up asking me a question like that? Not everyone's an English teacher, Teresa."

"Uh huh. That's why we're wonder children when it comes to English. You with your stories, and I with poetry."

"Ha! You can keep your poetry; writing stories are better!"

"Nuh huh!"

"Uh huh!"

They broke out in a fitful laughter and for the moment, they were able to forget about his Omniscience. It felt…good. As if the whole thing was normal. But for Teresa, she'd treasure these moments for the rest of her life.

"Anyway, I found something neat on the internet."

"I'm sure that it's just another jump-scare. I'm getting kinda tired of you trying to scare me." She folded her arms as she spoke, frowning a bit.

"No, no. It's like some kinda Diary or Journal from another Oracle from 2006. She knew my name and everything!"

"If she was an Oracle, of course she would know your name. I'm having the assumption that there's something you're not telling me."

"You've got to read it for yourself." With that said, he ran back to his room, nearly tripping over the steps of the stairs in his haste. When he was coming back down the steps however, he recalled his mistake and took his time. The last thing he needed was a busted laptop; he had gone too long without having one in the past.

Once back with Teresa, he turned it on and restored the Internet page from his web history and set the device on the kitchen table. Teresa sat down in front of it while Keith stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder.

She read it carefully and stiffened when she saw her brother's name. She hesitantly looked at the editing history for the website and saw that it dated on the 30th of June, 2006. She looked over her shoulder at Keith who motioned for her to continue. She did, albeit more hesitantly and continued reading. In fact, she read the whole thing through and through, before proceeding to do it again twice more.

When she finished, she turned around to Keith. She was about to ask him a question but thought better of it. It was becoming a bit annoying to avoid asking him questions, although she was tempted to ask him the meaning of life.

"That's… eerie."

"I know! I mean, I nearly threw the damned thing, thinking that it was supernatural or something."

Now she was tempted to ask him about religion. All she could do was sigh. After all, if this so-called 'Cynthia' person decided that she had to write a message to someone she didn't 'know' to warn him about these questions, the answers, at the very least were **not** worth ten years of living.

"I…need to go to bed. See yah in the morning, little bro."

"Good night, Teresa."

 **And that's the end of day 2. I realized that if I was going to create a plot out of this, it's probably going to extend into the 20k bracket. I could never keep within my word goal.**

 **Day 3 starts tomorrow and Keith…has 27 days to live.**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Omniscience**

 **Hmm. Do I have a problem?**

 **It's now 3:26 in the morning, on** _ **Wednesday.**_

 **What the hell? Shouldn't I be in bed?**

 **Yes. Yes I should.**

 **Claimer: I own this. Don't look so surprised. I really do. Too bad it doesn't bring in any financial profit.**

 **8.**

He was suddenly jolted awake at with a sense of panic. Quickly looking around the room, he leaned off the side and stood up, eyeing his digital alarm clock that rested on his nightstand.

The red, glowing characters read out ' **05:57 A.M.** '

"What the…? It's not even six?"

He had always been a late sleeper, particularly on weekends. Today being a Tuesday, he would have woken at around a quarter to seven by his bladder, perhaps a bit earlier by his parents (his mother, to be more specific) to tell him to go to school.

About school…

'Am I even going to school? I mean, damn. I'm the freakin' Oracle for Pete's sake. Don't I get a pass or something?' He ambled off to the bathroom to freshen up himself, still lost in his thoughts. Fortunately, there was no one using the shower at the time and he went through all the motions akin to one who was hypnotized. 'I bet now I could ace all the tests, but the End of Year Exams are already over so school's practically done. We're just wasting time in the days but I still had to attend to keep up my attendance record.'

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the toothbrush covered with the paste was accidentally smeared across his chin in a miss. Frustrated, he wiped it off with the back of his hand, rinsed it off before re-topping the toothbrush.

"Keep it together." He sighed. 'Geez. What do I do?' He had to suppress his laugh as he realized that he didn't. "And here I am, knowing everything, and I still haven't a clue what to do."

He finished brushing and dressed. His school was one of the traditional high schools that still employed the use of uniforms instead of a form of free-wear. They had reverted back to it after students abused the privilege too much, going out of their way to wear outrageous styles and latest fashions that revealed too much. Although males didn't mind that the girls wore tights, or the females who liked to see males trying to show off puberty-evolution grown chest hairs. Although it made the school more 'colorful and lively', the school administration argued that the institution was a place for learning, not a fashion runway for strutting students. Not to mention it made the 'nerds and geeks' stand out in 'poorly tasted fashions' that marked them for easy prey for insults, or bullies looking for an easy bus fare.

It was a fortunate thing he had woken earlier than usual, or he would have been hard-pressed to ready all of his things in time. He had gone to his bed earlier than usual, and neglected to brush and shine his shoes, press his khaki uniform (pants and shirt) and the school tie. He had to do all of these things himself, learning from an early age for his parents were exceptionally busy people.

He was done with all of these things, namely hygiene, clothing preparations and donning them by twenty minutes before seven. Quite a lot of time because the school bell rang at eight, and it was only a 15-20 minute walk there.

He casually went about preparing himself some breakfast: two scrambled eggs, two slices of toasted bread, a chicken frankfurter and a tomato. He quickly made a sandwich and in about two minutes, it was all gone.

"And that's that. Now, lunch money, eat a school lunch or make my own?"

There was no answer, but he decided to make one himself.

Retrieving a frozen beef burger from the freezer, it was dropped into a frying pan. Another minute later, it was resting on a fairly thick slice of buttered bread. A fried egg joined a little later, some lettuce, sliced tomatoes, before all was covered with the buttered bread's counterpart. He then wrapped it in foil paper closely to help keep it together, and then dropped it in a Ziploc® bag with a peeled orange sliced halfway. With a satisfied smile, he placed it carefully in his school backpack in its own compartment.

All ready for school, he stopped at the front door and turned. "I'm leaving! 'Bye!"

There was no answer, making him frown heavily. Throughout his morning thus far, he hadn't seen or heard of his three other family members. Saying nothing more, he left the house and walking to school, albeit slowly.

Eyes watched him go from a bedroom window, before the curtains were fully opened, revealing them to be Teresa's. "I think that at the very least we should have answered him." She spoke aloud.

"We need to discuss this first," Her mother replied. "Besides, there's still so much we don't know. We can't just go about this all willy-nilly."

"We could always ask him."

"This isn't the time for jokes, Teresa." Marcus answered. "Now let's all get ready for work. We're all running late. We'll just talk again downstairs."

Within an hour, all reconvened downstairs in their work attire, drinking coffee. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let him go to school. What if someone asks him a question? Like a teacher?"

Teresa thought long and hard about that. "Nah. I don't think so. Exams are over and all the teachers are just lounging away in the offices or watch their classes trying to play each other in online games. So long as the principal doesn't catch on about the gaming part, the teachers allow it, as long as the student's keep the noise down."

"Then wouldn't it be a waste of time?" Marcus asked. "He could have just stayed home."

"The teachers still want all students to have attendance, never mind wasting time. Just show up and be there. Besides, if he called in sick, they'd want a reason. They'd want to know what's keeping him away from classes."

"The flu?"

"Joanna, that doesn't sound right coming from you. You were always the one to promote honesty."

"Then you do it Marcus."

"Should we even lie?" Teresa interrupted. "Shouldn't everyone just know that he's the Oracle?"

"They'd behave like we're doing now." Mr. Smith said pointedly.

"How?"

"Afraid to even talk to him, lest they shorten their lifetime by mistake."

 **That's chapter eight. I posted two chapters as a part of my UNIVERSAL UPDATE experiment so you can just go on the next page.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Omniscience**

 **Here's chapter nine, as promised.**

 **Claimer: I told you already. I own this story, the idea, the characters…well, I don't own my family, but the point is I own all that the story has to offer.**

 **9.**

Keith walked in through the entrance of his home room. He was one of the few to already be there, unsurprisingly. With exams over, everyone came…fashionably late more often than not. Only the over achievers and the occasional 'teacher's pet' was there and without a word, took a seat close to the back.

He wished to be alone; he had come to the conclusion that his family was scared of him to even show themselves to him and it bothered him. It wasn't good for his morale; well, there was the fact he was set to die in around twenty-seven days, and that if anyone so much as asked him if he knew the date, they…wouldn't get the most out of life.

Not his best month.

'Well, if I'm going to die, I guess it's not all that bad. That Cynthia girl makes it sound harmless, I mean, she made it sound harmless, at least. Pass into the black, she says. Maybe she said that to be vague, or poetic. Then she said that we'll see each other there. Is it an afterlife? A special place for dead Oracles.' He rubbed his forehead. 'Geez. Now I'm starting to sound morbid.'

He took out a literature book from his bag and started to read it in an effort to distract himself. But questions plagued him, begging to be answered. At the very least, he found it to be ironic for he was the only one on earth currently who had all the answers.

The door opened, and two more classmates strolled in. Keith looked up and smiled. "Hey Richie, Lisa!"

The conversing two's eyes snapped to his location and the mouths under the eyes smiled as well. "Keith! How-"

In a split second, time seemed to slow down as the Oracle's eyes widened. "Shut up, Richie!" He yelled, interrupting his best friend.

The two coming towards him flinched and stopped in conclusion. "Why are y-"

"Shut up, Lisa!"

"What the hell's wro-" Richie started to ask in confusion and anger, but he was cut off again.

"No! Just don't ask any questions! Please!" Keith sighed dejectedly. "Don't ask me anything."

"You're acting really weird, Keith. And I mean that in the bad way, not the unique way." Lisa retorted with a deep frown. "Why-… oh. No questions. But explain what's going on, then."

Keith, after a moment's hesitation, beckoned to his best friends who slowly approached him. It took all of his resolve not bolt from the classroom with the glares from his friends and stares from the other early students.

He waited until each of them took a seat on either side of him before he let out a long exhale. "Look. I'm really sorry for shouting at the both of you like that. It's just that…uh…how to put this…"

"Just tell the truth and get it out of the way."

That was Lisa. She hated when people danced around important issues, when they beat around the bush by dangling critical info but wouldn't say it. Richie, on the other hand was extremely patient. He was also very apathetic; if anything, he had to say that his two friends were near polar opposites. He didn't know where he himself stood though.

"Come closer. I don't want the news getting out."

Each of them rolled their eyes before leaning closer to him. "Just tell us."

"Alright. Guys…I'm the Oracle for this year."

They leaned back quickly, Lisa badly startled, but Richie unbelieving. "You've gotta be joking. What-"

"Look. No questions, a'right?"

"I think that this is just a way for you to avoid being asked questions. Or a prank." Richie claimed. "Of all the odds, and the dice rolled and chose you?" He asked with a philosophical air.

Keith's eyes rolled to whites and he began his reply. " **Indeed. While it was truly random, all choices are controlled by one Superior to the Human race. The Universe is not arbitrary, nor is it unsystematic. You may argue that my tenure as this cycle's Oracle was indiscriminate, a specific number of events led to my being it.** "

With a gasp, Keith closed his eyes before reopening them. "*huff* huff* God-damnit Richie! I said don't ask me anything!"

"You must've faked it." Richie retorted.

"I don't think he was, Rich." Lisa mumbled. "He sounded like he was just…possessed or something."

"Not possession. It's like for an instant, my mind just viewed the whole…all of everything- the Universe like a filing cabinet draw with all the answers, and I picked out the file with the answer. Then I just read it out word for word."

"Well. I guess I'm a believer." Lisa muttered. "That's that."

"I don't believe. It's gotta be a trick."

"C'mon, Richie. I'm telling the truth!"

"I need better proof than a freaky answer, Smith. For all I know, you could have just learnt a few words from a thesaurus."

Keith considered for a while. "You seem to be really protestant against the idea. I found a website that hasn't been edited for ten years, and it proves that what I say is the truth."

"Smart phones."

"Smart phones."

Ten minutes later, all doubts were quelled as they turned back to Keith. "So, this Cynthia warned you about these questions, and not to answer them by wearing-"

"Headphones." Keith answered.

"Well, I suppose she knows best." Lisa added. "She _is a girl_ , after all."

"What does being a girl have to do with it?" Richie asked. "Guys know just about the same, maybe even more than girls!"

"Don't ask me! Ask Keith!"

"Fine! Keith, boys know—whoa, ho ho, I nearly walked into that one."

Lisa grinned. "I guess that's one point for girls."

 **Are girls smarter? I think so, sometimes. But in all honesty, boys are more practical and have more common sense than girls. Just saying.**

 **Lisa and Richie…well, Richie is based on my best friend, Richie. He's apathetic, and stubborn at times. Lisa…err… I don't have a girl for a best friend. Either they were friends, speak to them from time to time or dating relationships. She's not based on any of them, but I thought it would be cool if I gave Keith a female best friend.**

 **Anyway, that's all. Don't forget to review! It pleases me, and encourages me to continue!**

 **Valete Omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Omniscience**

 **The thing about original stories is that you don't have to worry too much about keeping people in character; it's perfectly normal for people to be one way in a minute, then another way the next.**

 **Claimer: I'm not too sure if 'claimer' is a real word. But I'm scared of looking it up and finding out that I've made a mistake ten times in a row. Oh, and I own all of the ideas portrayed in this story. That is, until some random prick comes along and gets the rights to it in his name. But we'll all know…check the publishing date.**

 **10.**

"But in all things considered, you just lost ten years of your life." Keith stated worriedly. "Isn't that good cause for concern for you?"

Richie thought about it for a moment. "Nope. I've heard that people who got their lifetimes shaved off by the decade die suddenly. At least in this way, I won't have to worry about a painful demise."

All was silent for a full minute.

"Good idea, Richie," Lisa said in congratulatory tone. "Keith, what am-"

"Lisa. Stop." Smith warned.

"Hmph. Whatever." She rolled her eyes in distaste. "What happens now then, Richie? We plan his memorial service for the end of the month?"

"I can envision some lilies here, chrysanthemums there." Richie answered. "I think his mom likes those flowers. Maybe she'll like them on his casket."

"…Damn, Richie. That's too morbid to be a joke." Keith furrowed his brows, now upset.

"That wasn't a joke. It's no secret that you're going to die. We gotta fix you up with all the things life has to offer." His friend said with a grin. "We're going to have to fix you up with some sort-a bucket list, since you're going to…um…"

"Kick the bucket?" Lisa suggested.

"Yes." The boy took the answer and affixed it to his speech. "Kick the bucket. You'll have to learn how to drive, vote, drink liquor, win a race, lose your virginity-"

"Hold up on that!" Keith sputtered like a dying motor-vehicle engine. "I don't think I care for any of that. Besides, the Oracle from 2006 seemed alright with dying. On the last day, she knew all, so she knew what death was like and she wasn't scared. Why should I?"

His two friends shared a look. "I thought you would know everything." Lisa said.

"Do librarians know everything?" Keith shot back. "And yet they're surrounded by vast collections of knowledge. I think I'm the same. It's like I just get the answer from somewhere, and I say it. But you have to ask me directly. But don't, alright?"

Lisa thought for a moment. "There is something I want to ask, though. Let me just think it over carefully…and get the wording right…"

After thinking it over in silence for around two minutes, she spoke again. "Where can I buy the winning ticket to the Supreme Grand Lottery today at the precise moment when it's the next ticket that reels off?"

Richie who had listening to the question could only marvel at how intricate the wording was to form one question. He eagerly turned to Keith whose eyes seemed to have rolled upwards and his aura changed.

" **It will be available in the New Haven Mart at two hours, fifty-one minutes and 34 milliseconds after midday."** Keith shook a bit, before his aura reverted back to his previous one. "Damn, that feeling never changes. Hope I won't have to get used to it." He looked at Lisa, who seemed to be writing something. "I don't to recall the details of what I said. What was it?"

"I wrote the time."

"But the New Haven Mart is clear on the other side of Town. And school lets out at two thirty. And-"

"Minors can't buy tickets. Gambling." Keith finished. "What're you gonna do with useless info?"

"Guys, it's two hundred million. At the very least, one of us, and I mean one of you two, has to convince their older sibling to go buy it. With our instructing, of course." She said with a smile. "It'll work out."

"I sure hope so." Richie grumbled. "I wanna cut of it."

"I'll share."

"Only the buyer of the ticket can claim it." Keith deadpanned. "Not you. So that person has to transfer all two hundred to your account. And won't it look weird for someone to just send two hundred mil to a teenage girl's bank account?"

"Questions." Richie said in a sing-song voice.

"I'll pass." Keith muttered. "I've had enough of questions ruining my life. Or what's left of it, anyway." He leaned back in his seat and rested his head on his hands raised behind it. "What the heck will you do with that much cash, anyway?"

"As a girl, I have expensive tastes."

"And ten years short of a full life."

"At least my wish has worth, Richie." She said coldly. "I don't like all this pessimistic energy. Cheer up! We'll all be living the good life!"

Keith became very downcast. He sighed deeply, and he sounded as if he was crying.

"I won't be 'living' with you guys. I'll be dead, remember?"

Lisa frowned, before she patted his back. "Look, I'm sorry about all of this. It's just that the thought of getting rich- ugh. This isn't coming out right. Rich, help me out?"

"What she means is that we're here for you, buddy. Right there until you're dying breath."

Keith couldn't help but smile, albeit wryly. "Again with the twice-damned morbidity. Will you ever change?"

"Life is never the same, but death is always the same culmination of it." His friend replied.

"I'll take that as a yes."

 **Now we're getting somewhere. At first, I was thinking of using the lottery and a bucket list to be the main idea of the story, but then I said "Nah!"**

 **I left a 'story' window open, and I'm going to exploit it. I've even taken the liberty of planning the whole plot of it…**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Omniscience**

 **As I said before, I'm exploiting a window. I mentioned the idea of who/what I'm using before, and it's time I did it.**

 **Claimer: I own this. Yep! I sure do. Stop staring! Look at you, staring at me through the screen. I'm telling the truth…**

 **11.**

"Yo man, you sort out the mess, yesterday?"

"Yeah." He replied curtly. "I did it. Frankly, it took a turn for a completely expected, yet unexpected mishap. Depends on how you looked at it."

"Yeah. It's messed up," His 'partner' replied. "But I heard that she had cancer. She was sufferin', Roberts."

"We don't know if she would have lived, Hayes." Roberts said in all seriousness.

"And yet, at the so-called 'extreme' age of fifty, she died at an accelerated sixty? I think the cancer would have taken her life within ten years, yeah?" Hayes explained.

"You're carrying on like that because you disliked her from day one." Roberts stated as if it were a fact, before going back to his typing. He took a quick sip from a mug that read 'You're kissing the wrong thing' and allowed the caffeine from his black beverage inside to boost his overall usefulness. Hayes who stood behind him at his left shoulder peered over him at the screen.

"Find anything new?"

"Answer me first."

"What, aren't you scared of losing ten years off of your life? Damn it man, just leave the kid in peace. He just drew a bad hand in life and look! He got rid of a criminal, and a hag! Maybe I could get my 'loving' father to chat with him."

"Now's not the time for inane jokes." Roberts ordered. "Just find the boy's address. Or better yet, which school he attends. Wait a minute, I'm remembering… He was wearing a khaki uniform. Only one high school around here that does that."

"So you really intend to find this kid? Ask a question or two? Throw the rest of your life away? Hmm?" Hayes couldn't believe that his long time partner in all around crime fighting and sleuthing was going to follow through with this. "What are you even going to ask him, anyway? What's so important that it overrules ten years of living?"

Roberts' eyes briefly wandered to the picture frame that sat on his desk. The picture was that of a wedding photo of him and his deceased wife, Nicoya. He smiled as the memory came back to him, but the expression soon shattered was he recalled how he found her lying in a pool of her own blood in their kitchen.

"My only purpose for living." He stated with an absolute deadpan. He got up, and dug into his pocket for his car keys. "I'm going to the high school. It should be their lunch time right about now."

"Don't get killed, partner." Hayes called after him, as the man walked away to the exit. "Between you and Ms. Denier over there, you're the only two people I can actually tolerate in this department.

"Try a transfer!" Ms. Denier shouted from her workstation. "I can't stand you flirting with me all the time!"

"You know you like it, future Mrs. Hayes."

"Blech. No thank you." The woman remarked. "Men like you are the reason I'm still single."

 **=X=X=**

He got out of his car and pressed the button for the 'All Lock' on the car-key remote. He briefly listened for the stereotypical 'Two beeps' that that told him that all the doors were secure. With that done, he put the keys back into his pocket and marched up the steps to the entrance of the school.

He walked through the busy corridors milling with students, and most, if not all of them carrying on with their shenanigans ceased and gave him way to pass. Asking a teacher briefly who and where he could find the principal, he found the middle-aged woman in her office.

"I need to talk to Keith Smith."

"And who requests to see him, if I could have your name?" The woman responded in question, raising an eyebrow over her low-worn spectacles.

"My name's Roberts." He quickly took out his identification and showed her his registration for the local police. "I came to talk to Keith, regarding his misfortunes yesterday."

"May I know about the misfortunes?"

"Private matters."

"It's been a slow day," The woman said with a disappointing sigh. "You may as well. Perhaps you could take him along with you, to avoid disturbing the other students. The school year is practically over anyway."

"I'll take you up on that. Thank you ma'am."

"You're welcome."

Five minutes later, Smith was found by the policeman talking with his friends in his home room. By all means, it looked as if they were talking about their brought lunches, but as he came closer, they stopped too abruptly, as if they were talking something scandalous. Or in the manner of a conspiracy.

"Um…its you again Mr. Roberts. I didn't expect to s-see y-you ag-gain. I'm not getting arrested, am I?" Keith stammered in nervousness.

The man nearly smiled in good humor. If the situation he was embroiled in wasn't so serious, he probably would've laughed. But unfortunately, the situation wasn't. It _was_ serious,

"You're not getting arrested for murder." The man groaned. "This is about something else; I believe that you would be a great help."

The boy's female companion jumped in. "Is this about how he's an Ora-"

"Hush Lisa." The male one said. "Remember that Keith's still trying to keep his 'Special Case' under wraps. We don't know if he knows-"

"While a sensible thing about keeping it a secret," Roberts spoke up before the teens got carried away. "It might not be a secret anymore, should you help me."

"What is it that you want?" Keith asked.

"I'm going to open a court case this month, using you as a witness. Your answering statement will be vital to it. Let's go outside, and chat in my car."

 **And that's chapter 11. Err, I don't like odd numbers like this. I better post three chapters next time to smooth this over to 14. Anyway, don't forget to review. I see the views, people. You're reading, but why are you silent? :'(**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Omniscience**

 **Time for the next chapter. Hope y'all enjoy it. And the new fic image. And the latest Ultimatum one-shot, should you want to read it. It's 4k, and has a lesson.**

 **Claimer: No one has said that this isn't a 'word' or 'term', so me thinks it's safe. I own this fic.**

 **12.**

"Really."

"That's all you can say? 'Really'?" Lisa questioned.

"You want me to drive you over there to buy a ticket to win the cash prize. Supporting gambling and all that?" The man asked to clarify.

"Yes!"

"Not a chance." Roberts said indignantly. "Minors gambling, me supporting it, cheating to get it…"

"I didn't cheat!" She yelled angrily. "I used a decade of my life to get it!"

"Still cheating."

"Hold up, Mr. Roberts." Keith asked. "Wouldn't me giving testimony count as some kind of cheating?"

"Dude's got a point." Richie said in support. "Besides, there's nothing in the rules that said an Oracle can't help someone with the info to get the ticket. She would have bought it like everyone else. Didn't set of a chain of events that guarantees her the ticket. Only when and where to get it."

"Err…" The man hesitated. "Oh…."

"And furthermore, if you don't help her, I won't help you."

"There is such a thing as a subpoena, you know."

"Oh? I'll plead for it to be nullified. At the very least, I'll stall out the month until I die anyway."

"Damn it." The man muttered heatedly. "Fine. But I'm not handling the money for this. Find someone else."

"Transportation is all we require." Richie affirmed.

They were all currently seated in Mr. Roberts's car. The man himself was of course in the driver's seat, Keith was shotgun, and his two best friends were in the backseat. The car was still parked, and now, the man fully gathered himself, turned his key in the ignition and pulled out of the school's compound.

"So she buys her ticket, and Mr. Smith here helps me?"

"She can't." Richie explained. "You have to. She's under aged."

"And if I buy it, who do I send the money to for them to claim when it's won?"

"Keith's sister can do that." Lisa volunteered excitedly. "That's all."

The man groaned as he gripped the steering wheel. "Oh boy. If I don't get fired, I'll still go mental."

"Just don't tell 'em how you know who and why you got the winning ticket." Lisa reassured. She received a glower for all she did, and she hastily added a 'unless they ask, of course' to it.

It was quite a lengthy drive, given distance, traffic and stop-lights, but all in all arrived at the New Haven Mart at two-thirty p.m. Lisa gushed in excitement as she practically flew outside the car barely before the car parked in the lot out front. "Let's go guys!"

"It's the next ticket to buy at two-fifty-one." Richie said jadedly. "Lisa, get back here. We need to think on this."

"Let's just go!" She said impatiently.

"No…he's right, Lisa." Keith admonished. "We have to take some things into consideration. What's the detail?"

"…" She fumbled with her notebook to get to the right page. "It's available to buy at 2:51, and 34 milliseconds. That's p.m. today!" She yelled the last.

We can't just hold up the line, until it's that time." Richie chastised. "You asked for the moment it reels off to be sold. If you hold up the line to wait, you'll just buy the one, or _ones_ before it."

"I have an idea." Mr. Roberts remarked.

 **Ultimatum**

The man waited in the line, and it was now 2:47 p.m. He was soon to the front, and he checked his watch.

"2:51 p.m., huh," He muttered as he saw the person at the very head of the line walk away with his purchased ticket, and the line moved up a step. "Four minutes…"

In another two minutes, he was at the front. Rather than buy tickets too early, he sashayed to one side. "After you." He said politely to the middle aged woman behind him.

"Why, thank you." The woman took his place, and assumed hers. In another half a minute, he repeated his step with the man behind him, and the man looked at him as if he were stupid.

"Hey man, are you touched in the head, or some shit like that?"

"Are you complaining because you're going ahead of me? Sooner serve, sooner leave." He said in all seriousness. The man shook his head as if to dismiss Mr. Roberts's idea and went ahead.

This happened twice more, and it was now 2:50. He didn't dare risk giving up his place anymore, although the old woman behind him had expected him to. "I'm sorry, that's all the good I can do today." He remarked apologetically to the elder, noting her disappointed face.

"No dear, that's fine."

"…" He nodded to her, and went forward to the cashier.

"Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?" The young man asked in a bored tone.

"Supreme Grand Lottery, please."

"How many tickets?"

The policeman checked his watch. It was now 2:51 and it got him to think a bit. "A half dozen. Better chances, and all."

 **Roughly two hundred words shorter, but there's nothing more to add to this. I don't want to create needless filler.**

 ***Clears Throat* You can skip to the next chapter now.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Omniscience**

 **You made it! When you're done, there's one more chapter. Don't forget to review if you have something that you wish to comment on.**

 **Claimer: I own this…story…**

… **Fiction…**

 **I'm not a fan of it…**

 **No…I** _ **created**_ **it. YES!**

 **13.**

"I did my best, and just to make sure, I went out on a limb and got six. Of course there's a winner. Although this old lady behind me could have been a winner, though."

"You want us to give her a piece, don't you?" Lisa asked evenly.

"I memorized her face, and I think a hundred thousand would do her a lot good. Spoil her grandkids, if she has any."

All were in the Smith household and currently watching television in the living room. It was…strange. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were busying themselves to bring snacks and light beverages to their guests who just…decided to wait in a Lottery Draw that commenced at 7:00 pm, a few minutes from now. Teresa was there, Mr. Roberts was there, Keith and his two friends were there. No one was complaining really; it was a Friday night, and all were dressed more-or-less casually.

"So we're waiting on a Draw, then? A minute from now?"

"Yeah." Richie answered. "Everyone grab a ticket, odd person out turn up the TV, and well...hope that it works, huh?"

"I can't believe Lisa asked a question for this." Teresa stated as she was handed a ticket by the policeman. "Wish I thought of it first."

"Shush." Ms. Smith turned up the TV as the Draw came on.

" _Good evening, and thank you for joining us for Supreme Grand Lottery Draw. Only one ticket is the winner, but in this draw, there are no losers."_

Richie chuckled wryly. "Suuure. No one's won it in like…ever."

"Shush!"

" _Let's get right to it. There are ten numbers, and sequenced in this order…1…"_

"… _5…"_

Everyone listened and glanced at their ticket, save for the maternal figure of the house that had none.

"… _7…"_

"… _19…"_

"… _9…"_

"… _5…"_

"… _2…"_

"… _27…"_

"… _20…"_

"… _16…"_

The person reading the numbers then repeated the numbers once more, before continuing. _"We thank you for your time, and extend our congratulations to the winner. As usual, all details regarding winning numbers are on the back of the ticket to its fullest entail. Good evening again, and we now return to our regular broadcasting._

The program flickered to that of some reality show, but Ms. Smith quickly turned off the television. "Well? Who got the winning ticket? Everyone's so silent…"

"…"

"No one?"

A melee of shouting broke out for the next two minutes, before all saw Keith laughing. Teresa quieted them all, warning them all of not asking him questions, before she decided to do her usual bypass.

"Keith, I am sure you wish to speak why you are laughing. Under threat of us beating it out of you, of course."

The teenager grinned. "Aw, I thought someone would have been clumsy enough in speech to fail to say that, or at the very least, forgot that they can't ask me questions. Yeah, I got the winning ticket."

5…4…4…2…1…

And the house fell to savage behavior, maniacal laughter, hooligan-esque cheering, and the usual someone trying to do a somersault and failing. Still laughing after the failed attempt, however. A little back pain couldn't stifle their high spirits, anyway.

 _ **Ultimatum**_

The very next morning, Mr. Roberts decided that it would be better if Teresa claimed herself the winner with the ticket. Why?

"I'm feeling a little crowded with everyone here." Keith mumbled, as he fought for elbow room.

"Ow!" Lisa rubbed her side. "Careful!"

"Sorry."

"She better be the one to claim it. If I claim it, then give her all the money, it'll be too questionable during this month."

"Why?" Teresa asked. "Can't you do it?"

"Keith's testifying this month. Out of selfish reasons, I'm asking him to testify and tell the name of the murderer of my wife."

"Oh. That's heavy, and completely understandable." Joanna answered. "It's your wife, after all."

"You're holding too much esteem in yourself, mom." Keith teased.

"Hmph. Eat your breakfast."

"Yes ma'am."

"Anyway," Mr. Roberts continued. "It might look like I'm buying him off, or something."

"No…it still wouldn't work. More complications." Keith remarked. "They'd think that I used my ability to find out how to get the ticket. No go."

"Fine, I'll get my mom to do it, just like I should've from the start."

"Let her in on the secret and such?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think the store will say 'No, she didn't buy the ticket?'" Richie asked.

"They want 2%. Give 'em 4% or 5%, and they'll shut up." Lisa said firmly.

Mr. Roberts cleared his throat.

"I don't care," Lisa retorted to his unvoiced comment 'remember, I'm a cop'. "You're the one who's trying to avoid this mess. My mom can do it. She's pretty average looking. We'll just double the percentage, and everything will be fine."

The policeman sighed. "Fine. Give your mother the ticket to sign, explain to her you found out from Keith, and I bought it. We cannot dispute this fact. I just bought the ticket, and gave it away. That's the truth. Nothing else. But if worse comes to worse, I'll just say that I was told to buy a ticket, but I didn't encourage gambling, which is the truth. I had doubts that she would win, and I want to discourage the practice. I even bought several, but in the end, one of them was the winner."

"Wow. What a story." Richie praised.

"I'm a cop. I've spent a lot of time in the courts around lawyers and such. Now then, Keith, I'll prepare the Inquiry for next week. I think all I'll need is just one court day. After all, we only really need one testimony from you. 'The murderer is so and so,' and that's it."

"Need more specifications." Lisa piped up. "I had to be real specific. What if the name's generic?"

"I'll think of something. I'm asking the question, and I'm risking my life. I'll be damned if I mess this up. I need this case fully done and buried." The man choked up a little and he rubbed a tear that prickled his eyes. "I _need closure._ "

 **And scratch that. Next chapter's out. Click/press that button and get over there.**

 **This is the morning of Day 4, Friday. Before continuing, remember the days:**

 **5** **th** **, 6** **th** **, 8** **th** **, 16** **th** **, 25** **th** **, 29** **th** **.**

 **Cynthia warned him about those days.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Omniscience**

 **It's been…2 minutes since I typed the previous chapter. I still own this…nothing changed.**

 **It's hard to concentrate. It's General Elections right now in Jamaica, and there's enough noise here to make Heavy Metalcore music sound like butterflies flapping their wings. My head hurts so goddamn much.**

 **So…much.**

 **14.**

Something, somewhat, some _how_ , everyone now knew.

"Yeah." Keith grumbled. "Probably overheard me at school. But they're rumors, that's all. So long as no one asks me, I'm fine."

Earlier that day, at around 10:00 a.m., Keith checked his social media, and discovered that he was all over it, as the year's Oracle. He had no idea who might have gotten that sliver of information, but the rumors were flying, flying, flying…

He plugged in the jack, put on the headphones, and turned up the volume on his phone, currently playing Alternative Rock songs. "Yeah. Can't listen to anyone."

He was now walking down the street to get to the library to see if he could find out any more on Oracles from hard information in books, rather than looking it up online. After all, Oracles had existed for as long as History itself. Why shouldn't be books on the subject?

He could feel the stares of his neighbors, his peers, his associates, people he saw and spoke to from time to time, single-instance acquaintances...

Enemies, school bullies, haters…

Everyone!

"Holy crap." He muttered. "I better hurry. I bet no one would really be in the library on a Saturday."

He felt as if he were being stalked. Glancing around, he didn't really see anyone. No. He saw a **crowd** coming after him. It was comical to watch them try to hide after they knew they were caught, but the Smith was not laughing. He beat feet, and for once glad that he was still in his parkour phase, although his family had tried to discourage him after he had gotten bad sprains in the past.

He inhaled deeply. Quickly recalling things in his mind, he then made the rapid adjustments to what he could.

He was wearing a dark blue polo shirt, jeans that were a bit torn at the knees, and crepe soles. Not ideal, but good. No dirt will show, and the torn jeans would at least allow 80% movement.

He rolled from his right shoulder from habit. So he placed his phone in his left hip pocket, library card right, kerchief in the back right. He shouldn't hurt himself or damage anything that way.

"He's running!"

"Don't lose him!"

The ground shook under his feet and knew they were now chasing him. He made off in a sprint and made right through the mall's parking lot. This, would separate boys from the girls, he thought. He quickly leapt up to the partition that separated vehicles and did a 'precision jump' from that one to the next one several feet away. From there, he strode along them as he gained momentum, and at the last one of the series, leapt at the eight-foot high wall, stood on it briefly and then leapt off as far as he could.

Rolling as he hit the ground the next side, he continued running. He knew that should discourage the girls and many boys, but when he glanced back, he could make out the forms of at least three boys, and one girl.

'Wow. A girl? She must be good at parkour, or something.' He didn't really know any girls like that. He continued on to the next barrier, and in an effort to keep speed, 'Kong' vaulted over it, tucking his knees in between his arms. He was prepared for the small surprise drop behind it, and continued. He was almost at the library after more sprinting.

He was fast approaching a corner of a wall…that was four meters tall. By now, he only heard two sets of footsteps behind him. He mentally recalled Cynthia's warning that the persons would be persistent, but these people were dauntless.

He strafed a little to the corner, and turned to it as he continued sprinting at it.

He jumped up to the right wall with his left foot, then pushed off with his right foot. He knew that this took plenty of practice, and he had had a lot of practice and fails under his belt. He was experienced.

As he was now leaping off to the forward wall, placed his left foot driving upwards while pulling himself on it like a cat using his fingertips and frantic 'steps' on the wall, and finally caught hold at the top with one hand. Grasping with his other, he then brought up his legs underneath him, pulled himself up and stood on the wall.

It was grass below him. He acknowledged that as he leapt forward off the wall, and as his toes touched the ground, leapt off that as hard as he could and rolled over the lateral side of his arm. Quickly following through diagonally over his back, he came back up and panted. He made it. The library was just over there at the end of this grass patch.

He quickly jogged over to the entrance and opened one of the double doors. He smiled as he realized that he had won.

Until he realized that he walked right into the exiting Jenna, the very well-informed, pretty, smart, 'girl of his dreams'.

The very one, who's name was synonymous with the word 'persistence.'

'Shit.'

 **And that's that. I thought that I might put some fast romance in the fic too, so…yeah. Didn't feel like doing it with Lisa. Also…yeah…I'm a parkour enthusiast. It's obvious in ALL my stories.**

 **UGH! Who's blowing that goddamn horn outside?! SHUT THE HELL UP! DAMN-IT-ALL!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Omniscience**

 **Oh boy, this story sure got neglected. It's not writer's block. To be honest and blunt, I just forgot about it. But now that a UNIVERSAL update is in progress, I remembered it. Sorry for making you wait so long.**

 **I own this. Also, if you're interested, I tried out my latest Ultimatum one-shot 'Doom CONTROL(er)' in a first person P.O.V., and feel free to check it out if you want to.**

 **15.**

"Well, sorry I can't stay and chat, Jenna, but I gotta go." He made an abrupt turn and was about to run in the direction he had come, but she grabbed his wrist.

"Hold on, Oracle man."

"…'Oracle man'?" He parroted, completely taken aback. Suddenly, he realized that he had heard her speak, and his headphones were on his ears. Glancing down, he saw that his jack was unplugged from his phone, and he fumbled with it in his free hand to plug it in, lest he answer one of the 'controversial' questions a person of her stature was bound to ask. "I have to go."

"You just got here," Jenna observed with a wry smile. "Stay awhile. You just came to the library, no doubt to do some…research."

'I regret it now. I regret ever getting out of bed, to be honest.' "For your own good, I think I should go."

"Aw, you're worried. Why's that?" She asked in a state of bewilderment. He was about to capitalize on this to wrench his wrist from her, when he felt his psyche became clouded, before becoming clearer than it ever was before.

…

…

…

Keith face-palmed himself. "Why would you ask me a question?"

He had had to escort her home after she had claimed to feel a bit lightheaded. That was a tad unexpected, but judging from what he knew he just said, he should've expected it. They currently sat on her doorstep, and she held her face in her hands. "I…"

He sighed long and deeply. "I am supposed to die at the end of the month anyway, and I probably would've never told you. But you just _had_ to ask."

"It was a slip up. And if you were never going to tell me, then it's also your slip up."

"All I answer to a question is unintentional." He retorted firmly. "I just didn't want to lessen your life, is all."

She could hardly suppress a giggle. "That's not what you said."

"Oh boy."

"That has to be the most blunt and frank confession of a feeling likely to be described as love which stems from infatuation I have ever heard. And you have to tell it as how it is, with no lies. Just…wow."

He got up and stretched, suddenly feeling like he was currently in some misbegotten lurch. "Well, yeah. You're fine, sorry for removing some of your life, and I'd better get on home."

"What's the hurry? Don't you want to talk?"

He huffed. "A fat lot o' good that did. I spoke what I shouldn't have, and you're set to die ten years earlier."

"I think this little issue needs to resolved first, and you know it," she said demurely. "And frankly, I don't really care about the years. I realized this morning that the death from a lessening must be instant and painless, judging by the way the people pass on. It's not too bad a price of knowledge. Now, please sit."

With an exorbitant amount of reluctance, he obliged. "So why? So you can laugh at me?"

She didn't answer right away, and he just sat there, continually glancing at her from his peripherals. She was everything a guy could hope for in a girl, height wise, appearance wise, a bit buxom yet still lissome, attractive wise, personality wise and wise-wise, if there was such a thing. It certainly wasn't lust, surely. He had been…'admiring' her from a distance even before his hormones developed at puberty.

"I don't know," she answered at last. "Does this mean I'm supposed to say 'ok, I love you too,' or-"

"Don't." When she said it almost like a passing mockery, it hurt him inside and he doubted that she knew. "We've always, for some reason ended up in the same class since basic school."

"Coincidence."

"What I'm saying is, is that you know me, and I know you," he said adroitly.

"Is that so…" She looked at him over the rim of her rectangular art spectacles. This made him shudder a bit, as the slight violet tinting of them made her chocolate eyes seem more surrealistic and imposing. "Tell me about you then."

He hesitated at this. He had expected her to ask him about herself, and realized that that was the answer. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to test my humility."

"Score one for the smart guy." She fist-bumped his shoulder playfully. "But seriously, tell me how you would describe yourself."

…

…

…

They sat like that, conversing with one another for another hour until Jenna heard her mother calling her inside for lunch. She invited him inside, but he declined politely as they stood up, both prepared to separate to their own dealings.

"Um…no thanks. Remember what I told you about Cynthia?"

"You're afraid that my highly intellectual aristocrat mother is going to ask you a question or two about-"

"Question!" He interjected.

"Sorry. I'll do what you said your sister does." She rolled her eyes in a bemused manner. "This is going to be the weirdest relationship ever."

"Relationship?" He asked excitedly.

"Slow down, suitor of mine." She was on the top step now, and slightly bent to peck him a kiss once that feathered him on the cheek. "You can _attempt_ to make it of what you're thinking of."

In two separate portions of his mind, one was registering that she was hinting to it as a challenge; one that he would certainly try to 'overcome'.

In the more, **vastly significant** portion, he was registering that the hint of a kiss on his cheek from _her_ ; hell, he felt like doing cartwheels…off of a skyscraper…without a parachute…into a gigantic knife set.

Then bursting into flames.

Before finally exploding.

He had frozen completely, but she merely smiled before waving. "'Bye Keith."

He nodded dumbly, and as soon as she went inside, the blush that had threatened to overtake him came in full force, and knocked him into a spontaneous back-flip. "Yeah!"

She had returned to her front window to peek through the curtain, only to witness jaw-dropped at the sight of him doing what she believed were called 'cheat-gainer' back-flips; two of them in quick succession before he ran off, presumably to his house.

'Hmm. If I was the Oracle and he asked me, I wonder what I would have answered.' She blushed a bit at the thought, but the thought turned grim as she recalled that he had around twenty-five days to live. 'There should be more guys like him. But there's no one like Keith. Not for me, at least.'

Her mother came up behind her. "Is Keith still here? I heard rumors that he was the Oracle for this year."

"He is, mom."

"Damn. I wanted to ask him what the meaning of Life was…" The older woman asked.

"You shouldn't. He got a warning that that's one of the questions that shouldn't be answered."

"Wouldn't you want to know?" Her mother asked, now getting confused.

"Nope!" Jenna answered pertly as she made her way to the dining table and sat at her place. "I got to know the answer to a much better question."

 **You see? That's how you rush a relationship that's still deep-seated. I'm no expert, but…daaammmnnn!**

 **Anyway, that was just a narrow escape, 'cause no doubt her mother would be persistent. But I don't want this story to drag out, so it's day 6 in the next chapter.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Omniscience**

 **It's been five minutes since I typed the previous chapter. Take it, and welcome.**

 **I own this. Don't lie, don't steal, just read.**

 **16.**

"You look like you're in a good mood, Keith." Teresa observed. "Considering…"

"Don't try to spoil my mood, Teresa!" The youngest Smith warned as he plugged in his headphones. "And if anyone besides my friends come knocking, send them away."

"I don't know why." She said carefully. "Tell me."

"It's day six. Cynthia warned me about some of the days, remember?"

"Oh. I remember. I suppose that explains why my Social media page is full of people asking me if it's true that you're an Oracle."

"What did you say?"

"I said nothing…" She trailed off. "I just deleted the messages as spam."

"Good." He thanked her before going upstairs. Not too soon after, the doorbell rang and Teresa got up to answer it.

"Who is it?" She called.

"It's Roberts." A male's voice answered. "I came to talk to Keith."

She recognized the voice of that of the detective's, and let him in. "That's going to be a problem."

"How so?"

She allowed him to pass her before she closed the door and locked it tight. "Has he ever told you about someone named 'Cynthia'?"

"Who?" He looked up the stairs, but when he was taken by the elbow, he allowed himself to be escorted to the table as the Smith's daughter looked as if she was ready to tell a story. "Who's Cynthia? Someone I should know?"

"She's really important. She's also deceased." Before he could go on a roll about who, what, where, how and why, she told him what she knew. That took fifteen minutes, and a site-link from Keith upstairs to her own laptop to show him the website with the formal address to the teen himself.

"That's…unsettling." The policeman said after he digested what he had read. "I wonder if I should wait for the last day for the Inquiry, but I don't want to drag him away from his family on the day he's set to die on."

"You sound so morose," she chastised. "You want to let him volunteer the information, correct?"

"Yes. It would be safer for the questioner, but I want it to be my price for knowing." He answered firmly. "If anything, I could get the name and such from the question asked, and on the thirtieth when he's practically an Omniscient Deity without being questioned, he could just say how and where I can corner the goddamn killer."

Teresa sighed. "I suppose that your case is understandable. But Keith is locked up, and you probably won't see him until tomorrow. Would you rather me give him a message?"

Mr. Roberts hesitated. "What made the address to Keith so unsettling is that the inquiry is on the sixteenth."

Teresa got up so quickly that the unfolding of her knees sent her chair reeling away backwards with a tumble and a crash. "You can't do that! She said that he should avoid questioners on the sixteenth!"

"I didn't know about the warning!" He spoke in an exclamation. "I just found out!"

"Change the date! He can't-"

"Well, _I_ can't. I thought that ten days would have been a good time to prepare, and they accepted the date, as well as cleared the schedule of all other appointments! All the other days are filled."

"Well…damn!" Teresa fumed. "You saw the list of questions! If humanity had the answers to those, it would change everything! How we work, play, eat and sleep! Redefine how we live!"

"Wouldn't it be a good outcome?" He shot back in his defense.

"If she could spend the time on her last day of life _warning_ him not to answer those questions, knowing what the outcome was, do you think it would turn out for the best?!" She yelled sarcastically. "She must've had a damn good reason to! If it was good, or even if the outcome wasn't 'all that bad', then she wouldn't have tried such a convoluted solution!"

"We can still fix this!" He pleaded. "But I need this inquiry to go through!"

The frustrated woman forced herself to calm down by taking deep breaths. "I don't know if this is you being selfish, or if I'm being unreasonable. It's Keith's choice, and he'll have to decide."

"The future isn't written in stone," he said in a stalwart and firm tone. "We'll just amp up security and such at the Inquiry. He'll just sit down, answer a question, we point the finger, get the killer, and Keith can go home straight after."

She stared at him in incredulity. "What world do you live in?"

"Mine." He deadpanned. "And my world isn't complete until the brazen son-of-a-bitch who took Nicoya's life is in jail; or better yet, getting a lethal injection or sitting in a chair that needs to be turned on."

"…Yep. You're pretty grim. Vengeful and all that. You'd better be careful what you aim to do."

He chuckled dryly. "I try to take as little risk as possible. Right now, only the inquisitors, the judge and me know that there will even be a case. The jury will be called in the day before the trial to ensure that very little people know about the case or make conference among themselves to predetermine verdicts. There won't even be any sort of gathering or congregation of sorts in the courtroom, except for his family for support. The only variables are Keith's friends, and I bought their silence by buying them that lottery ticket. Everyone wins, and only the killer will lose."

"No," Teresa mumbled tearfully after the monologue. "We'll all lose. By the end of it all, Keith will have lost his life, and we'll have lost him."

 **End that scene. The language just formally stepped up from K+ to T rated. Whoo-hoo. (Cheers weakly) Anyway, a little later, eh?**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Omniscience**

 **Just another Saturday night. Let's get to it.**

 **I own this. -= Period.**

 **17.**

 _Don't ask any question by questions. I don't know if it could trigger my Omniscient state._

…

 _Alright. Anyway, my mom's been on my case about the meaning of life she keeps riding me to ask you, or the two of you to get together to talk._

…

 _It's a good thing I left. I was supposed to avoid questioning on some of the days of this month, and yesterday was one of them. Today's the same too._

…

 _I don't know why you would try to do that._

…

He smiled as she read this. She was also apparently good at indirect questioning. That was…safe.

 _I'll send you a link to the website._

Keith belayed his texting to send a copy of the link. He had still had it on a 'clipboard' on his phone, and he now sent to Jenna. He waited ten minutes in total before he got a reply.

 _That's a creepy message._

…

 _I know. So if your mother wanted me to answer what the meaning of life was, I'm guessing the answer isn't all that people would like it to be._

…

 _You sound like a wise man. Like some kind of a Sage._

…

 _Thanks?_

…

 _It makes you sound old. :D_

…

 _:o Really?_

…

 _Really._

…

 _Want to do something?_

…

 _I don't know what you mean._

…

He hesitated strongly in his pause.

 _I mean a get-together._

…

 _I wonder if that's what you call a date. :O_

…

 _That's a strong word._

…

 _So you're saying that it is not a date._

He had one chance. It was a shot in the dark, but damn it, he was going to do it!

...

 _How many days do I have? Let's just skip to marriage, then._

…

…

…

He fretted as he waited for the notification. He was tempted to text again, but finally decided to let it play out.

…

 _:D It's a date. But just in case you get chased by another mob of questioners, I'll come pick you up instead._

…

As soon as he was done reading it, he whooped and made a dramatic fist-pump. "Yeah! Nailed it!" He quickly settled himself and continued.

 _That's so emasculating._

…

 _Okay, tough guy. Get out of your house with your sword and shield, fight through any and everyone to get to my house and pick somewhere we can go. But we're not eloping._

…

The phone fell out of his hand as he went limp. "Hell yeah!" Oh by the sweet mercies of whomever or whatever gave him the curse of being an Oracle, thank you! He was going to bite the dust in around twenty-four days, but he was leaving this plane of existence a lot happier than he was before!

…

 _I was thinking of Tuesday, to be honest, but it's the eighth. I'm only free on the eighth, so I don't think I can risk you out in public. I want to meet your family, so I was wondering…_

…

She had typed in the continuous periodical dots. It would have come out like a question, but it was for him to fill in the blanks. 'That girl is as smart as she's witty. Wow. Just…wow.'

 _..._

 _Dinner at my place, huh?_

…

 _Yep! :d_

'Huh? Wazzat mean?' Keith asked himself in thought.

…

 _Oops! I meant to type in a grin/broad smile! :D_

'Whew. What a relief.'

He quickly wrapped up the conversation with her, as she told him that she had a lot to do with her mother's odd jobs around the house. He wasn't the least bit sorry in that fashion…he had Tuesday to look forward to.

He'd drill Teresa to train his dining etiquette later. For now, he had to deal out some justice to some people online…video-game warfare, that is.

 _ **Ultimatum**_

"So your little girlfriend's coming by this evening-"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Teresa smirked. "I bet you wish she was." Her smirk soon fell as she saw him frown. "I don't think you should get too close to her."

"Why's that?!" Keith demanded.

"Need I remind you that you're going to-" She cut her speech hastily, not wanting to sound callous, or morbid. "When July comes, you won't be around to see it."

'She's…she's right. I'm still going to die.' "Yeah, I'm going to die. So why shouldn't I try to get with Jenna, huh? You knew about my feelings for her for years. The threats, blackmail, buying your silence with my pocket money…" he trailed off as he started to drone what he had had to do.

"I know," Teresa responded, suddenly feeling exasperated with Keith's defensive tendencies over the years concerning the girl. "Took you a damn long time, if you ask me. But it was cute to see you crushing on her from ever since when." She pinched his cheek playfully, but he smacked it away in the same level of annoyance.

"You haven't given me a reason." He said matter-of-factly.

"Bonds make a deathbed terrible. For both people."

His face fell as he finally wrapped his mind around what she was saying. "So…you're saying that all I'm doing is making my own…" He gulped almost audibly to the point of his sister to the fore of him hearing. "'Departure' painful for myself?"

"And her," Teresa reminded. "How do you think she's going to feel when you try to wheedle yourself into her life, only to 'kick the bucket' on the thirtieth day-"

"Question." He reminded firmly. "Don't finish that."

"I don't think that was necessary. Although I forgot," she replied. "I still would have wanted an honest answer."

"She'd feel horrible." He deadpanned. "But-"

"There's no 'buts' to it. I'm not stopping you in your pursuits, I'm just saying try to find out how she'll feel in the long run."

"I…I'll think about it." He said at last.

"Make it quick. She's coming in less than two hours. You haven't even showered yet. Your body odor rose when you were running from people today when you came home from school."

"I still don't know why I have to go to school!"

"I don't care that they're not teaching you. When school lets out this week, you'll be fine."

"Yeah. And more time to dwell in the doom of my situation."

She knocked him once upside the head. "Don't you dare."

 **And that's one more done. As I mentioned before, I dislike odd numbers, so there will be another chapter. Woot!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Omniscience**

 **It's been days for me, but around forty-five minutes for you. Hah.**

 **Again I say, I own this. But wow, this little fic has gotten some ambition. It's no longer a one-shot, that's for sure.**

 **18.**

"Does he have to wear those headphones?"

"I suppose so. If you had asked him and he heard, you would be ten years earlier in a grave." Marcus answered his wife. "I don't think I want that, and neither do you. He must be doing it for our benefit."

Jenna hastened a swallow. "No, Mr. Smith. He's worried about the _dangerous_ questions that people can ask."

"Like what my passwords are for my all my cash and internet accounts?"

Teresa snickered at this. "No. Questions like 'what's the meaning of life', or 'which country's the next superpower.'"

"I understand the first one, but I don't follow the second one."

"Well," Jenna began, preparing for a speech. "After I told him not to try and pick me up at my house, he came out instead and got bombarded by a couple of well-dressed people trying to ask him that question. I could hear them yelling at him before they even came close to my door, but I'd be surprised that he can still hear properly if he can have those headphones turned up that loud to not hear them. They were asking him that so they'd know the most lucrative business opportunities, from what I can gather. The Superpower country is basically the one with the most and best resources that they can monopolize. Like China with their recent advances in technology, or middle-eastern countries with oil and so on. If everyone suddenly realized that they needed this or that and a particular country had it, then that country could turn up massive profit. They'd thereby dangle it over everyone else, while developing themselves. Investors could invest in that currently 'average' country via shares, and when they strike gold…well, the lottery can't hold a candle to it. And that's just the start. Military prowess could be the next thing, as everyone wants to say they're the most advanced when it comes to security…things like that."

"She's such an intelligent young lady." Ms. Smith told her husband not-so-discretely.

"I know. I wouldn't have thought of that…but now that I think about it, maybe we really should ask-"

"NO!" Teresa shouted. After getting stares from everyone except for Keith, she gathered her composure and said it more calmly. "We can't ask him any of those dangerous questions."

"Well…can we ask him what happens after death?" Marcus asked.

"Why don't you ask him a bunch of questions and find out for yourself?" Teresa deadpanned. "It's like no one's taking this seriously! There must be a reason why questions like this must remain unanswered, and-"

"You're not curious?" Jenna asked.

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Ah. That proverb is actually very apt and suitable for this situation." The teenage girl answered. "But while Keith's not hearing us…you all seem to be handling this well. Too well, if you ask me."

"What do you mean, dear?"

"She's probably talking how he's going to…pass on at the end of the month." Teresa ran across in speech. Getting a nod from the girl, she continued. "Well, I for one am losing hair and sleep over it. I'm not too sure about mum and dad-"

"We don't like it any more than you do. We've actually been praying over it, but it doesn't help that we don't know which deity or god we're supposed to worship." Joanna replied sternly. "Do you think we're tolerant of the fact that we're going to have to bury our own son? It's him who should be burying us-"

"Let's not go there. But I can't understand how Keith seems to be so mellow about it." Jenna mused. "Although that Cynthia girl who warned him about the questions sounded okay with it. Is it in the nature of Oracles to be okay with it, maybe?"

"Not sure. But Jenna…" Teresa started to say.

"Hmm?"

"Stay away from my brother."

"What?" Disbelief and shock reigned supreme in the teen's face. "Why?"

Teresa was unrelenting in her unnerving gaze. "I don't think you should get attached to what you're going to have to let go of."

All were silent now, save for Keith's humming. This soon ended as he took off his headphones. "Battery's dead." He heaved a sigh. "I suppose its fine. It's seven in the night anyway…hold on…why's everyone silent? Or am I going deaf?" He looked around eagerly to see if anyone was grinning at his joke, but soon pulled a frown when he saw everyone's grim yet stoic expressions. "Hello…"

Jenna eased back out on her chair and stood. "Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Smith." She was succinct, and yet polite. "I have to go."

"Wha…? Where are you going?" Keith asked, completely befuddled.

"I'm going home, Keith. Thanks for inviting me over." She turned sharply on her heel and begun walking away without looking back. "I'll let myself out."

Keith slapped the heel of his palm unto his forehead in exasperation. "What happened? Did her parents call her or something?"

No answer.

He got up. "I guess I'll walk her out then." He got out of his chair and made after Jenna, but his arm was grabbed by Teresa.

"Don't."

He squirmed out of her grasp easily. "And why would I wanna do that?"

She was probably in the living room now, almost to the door, Teresa thought rapidly, now stalling to keep the answer of her brother's query to herself. But her little brother didn't wait around, and he left as well. She now became vocal and yelled after him. "Remember what we talked about!"

She got no answer as Keith was ignoring her calls. He, instead, had caught up to Jenna and opened the front door. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay a bit?"

"No, Keith."

The Oracle suddenly realized that Teresa must have told her to leave him alone and fumed on the inside. "Well, I suppose I can still walk you home, if it's not any trouble."

She stepped out, and he after her and closed the door behind him. "Don't. It's still the eighth, and…you should leave me alone. Judging from what I heard her shout at you, you must know what's going on already."

"Ah! And even if I did, does it currently look like I'm listening to her?!" He spoke matter-of-factly as they now walked down the sidewalk. "I'm here beside you anyway-"

That was all he had time to say before he was tackled to the ground from behind. "Oof! What the hell?!" His head was being forced down on the side to the ground by the offender's large palm and his body held securely under their weight. He was well and truly not going anywhere, but that didn't stop him from looking up via his peripherals, and recognized one of the apparent businessmen who had practically verbally harassed him for most of the day.

"HAH!" The man yelled. "Oracle! Which country is the next-"

"No!" Jenna and Keith yelled in a panic.

 **And that's a wrap, and the last chapter for the universal update. Next time, eh?**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Omniscience**

 **It's been a while. Lest this fall by the wayside, I'm going to post two chapters (one today, one tomorrow) to keep this thing relevant in my head. Sorry. I know that it hasn't been the most exciting fic, but it was mainly meant to be intrigue.**

 **I own this. Period.**

 **19.**

"Which country is the next-!"

"No!" Jenna yelled. Time blurred away into an endless horizon as she reacted explosively, kicking the grown man in the side with the toe, the very **toe** of her shoe with all her weight behind it. Also, it just so happened that she got the man squarely in the side.

"Agh!" The man bawled for his side and toppled sideways to the next one. "Why you!" He clutched it and tried to hold his pain in to himself, but couldn't help but let a whimper and a groan or two slip out unchecked.

Keith leapt to his feet, immensely relieved that the question was averted. The moment soon slipped away again as more (sharply dressed) people, came on scene from the direction his house was and honestly, Keith wasn't any happier when he saw them; he couldn't turn back to his house so the opposite direction was the way to go. "Run, Jenna, run!"

Instinctively, he started bounding away and muttered curses to himself. "Damn it." He back tracked a few steps to her and grabbed her hand. "Sorry, it's a habit of running away from people."

She couldn't get mad at him. How many males could such a similar situation happen to? Countless maybe? Perhaps one even closer than she thought. But that was hardly relevant, currently. But it was hilarious. This was hardly the way she had imagined herself on her first date-…running away from curious businessmen? How preposterous.

Apparently, he could sense that she realized it as they ran. "Sorry about dragging you into this!"

"Dragging me into this, or dragging me along you mean!" She sped up some to keep up with him. "This is a unique first date, but who am I to say, 'cause dating itself was a first to me!"

"I can't say I never wanted to run away with you!"

"What'd I say about eloping- whoa, I nearly asked a question."

"Can we not talk about this now?" Keith decided. "Especially when the so-called betterment of humanity hangs in the balances?"

"Well, I finally got my wish. I've gotten caught up in a whirlwind romance."

The Smith rolled his eyes and ran a bit quicker. They were soon to her house, but he realized something. If they retreated to hr house, he'd be penned in there while these people could have it under siege of sorts. He had a plan. "Jenna, go home by yourself. I'll meet you there after I throw these guys off."

"Okay."

Keith could only nod his head in a pleased manner. She wasn't prissy at all in the least. What a girl. "Alright." He turned away from her and leapt to one side. "Here I am!" He yelled to the approaching group of aristocrats. "The next superpower is how quickly you're going to lose sight of me!" He started singing loudly to himself but it was mostly gibberish to keep himself from hearing whatever they were yelling at him; questions most likely. Whatever they were asking came to him fractured and in pieces so they weren't eligible as questions.

He took off to the left across the empty street and started running on that side of the road. Spying a familiar chain-link fence, he leapt over it using a hurdle-jump and kept going. It slowed up the men behind him but whereas they had long strides and desperation to get what they wanted, he had agility and familiarity with the area. They were now in the park in his community, but the area was well lit so he could see where he was going. He already knew, though, and came upon an impressive nine-foot wall to keep the baddens out of the park.

With nary a second thought, a simple run-up and clutch had him grasping the top. Pulling himself up, he then let himself hang off the other side in a perfect CAT move and fell unto the balls of his toes. Leaving the men on the other side unable to perform the feat he had accomplished, he made off to Jenna's house.

 **=X=X=**

"It went well…sorta," she told her mother. "He did say that he'd soon meet me back here, so…"

"Smooth," her mother said sarcastically. "But dearie, I worry. What if you ask him a question? Asking questions takes years off you. Literally! People have been killed by that, you know."

"Already did. I guess that's the reason why we're dating now," Jenna replied coolly. "I mean, I nearly slipped up once or twice after that, but it's alright."

"I know, Jenna. I know. You've held yourself apart from others for so long and this boy…you two are coming from a long way…but have you ever seen him in a manner like you do now?"

"Yeah. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but I've always wanted to be closer to him, but I was too shy."

"And now you're not?"

"He's someone I can be comfortable around. I just wish…"

"Twenty-three." Her mother said suddenly.

"Hmm?" Jenna asked, confused.

"Oh Jenna..." The woman pulled her daughter into a hug and slightly swayed from side to side. "In twenty-three days, he won't be around anymore. I don't think that you should try to pursue this kind of relationship-"

Jenna pushed her way out of the hug and stared at her mother, almost in a death glare. "Excuse me?" This was interpreted as an 'I dare you to say that again', but her mother did so regardless.

"Jenna, he's like some of the terminal people I used to see in the hospital when I stopped by to visit my father. These people all wore a figurative expiration date for everyone to see. In just twenty-three days, he won't be alive-"

"None of us know when we so-called 'normal' people will die. Guns kill people, knives kill people, and automobile accidents kill people violently and suddenly. I could die in ten minutes from a hitherto to be suspected heart attack and would it have made a difference?"

"I-"

"No. When Keith's sister told me to leave him alone because of this very subject, Keith was against it from the start. Why should I do the same?"

"Jenna, I'm trying to do what's best for you-"

"I don't want to hear it!" The teen lashed out. Without another word, she turned and fled up the stairs to her room, leaving her mother to dwell on what she had said.

 **That's 9-teen. Well, tomorrow. Hell, maybe tonight even.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Omniscience**

 **Here I am, around half-an hour later. The teacher never came to class. I'm still out of it a bit, but I'll try. Milestone chapter 20, everyone!**

 **I own this. I really do. I own all the ideas for it, the OCs, the work and the rewards of my hobby; it is fulfilling to say that you wrote a story. In fact, if you haven't already, you should try it. Trust me.**

 **20.**

He grasped the crack and pulled at it, pulling himself up in the process. With nary an effort wasted, he was soon on the secondary roof that spanned around the house between the upper and the lower floor. Walking along it, he was soon at Jenna's bedroom window and knocked.

"Juliet? Juliet? It is I, fair Juliet!" He exclaimed softly in a fake English accent.

He didn't have to call again as she came to the window and pulled it up. "Hey Romeo."

"Romeo? I knoweth not this 'Romeo' of which you doth speak," he pretended. "Have mine fair maiden be smitten with someone else?"

She playfully punched his shoulder. "Alright, alright, quit it. You know what I mean. Besides, **you** started it."

He smiled warmly. "I know. But the reasons of me coming here feels mixed now."

She climbed out of the window and sat beside him in an Indian style on the roof. "Mixed how?"

"I mean that how I was supposed to walk you home, but it ended up in a disaster."

"Well, it was fun to run away with you," she replied with a grin. "But it didn't go badly for a first date."

"Well, you're the one who's calling it a date now," Keith answered. "I first called it a get-together."

"It was a date. End of argument. Is this the only thing you wanted to talk about because I-"

She was about to get up, and he could somewhat sense a negative vibe bleed from her. "No! I was just asking if there's going to be a next time…"

"You get to ask questions," she said darkly. He raised an eyebrow at this, but she continued. "That's two things holding us back. The fact that I can't ask you any sort of questions unless they're statements that require your input, and that well…how do I put this…"

"That I'm going to die at the end of the month?" He said easily, mildly throwing her off. "I know about that. My own sister keeps telling me that I shouldn't. Let me guess; your mother's been telling you the same thing?"

"Yeah," she muttered. "It doesn't matter if it's fair or not. "It's just that you finally tell me how you feel about me-"

"Come to think of it, I don't know how you feel about me." Keith said seriously as Jenna sat back down carefully, taking care not to fall off over the edge.

"Does it matter?" Jenna retorted. "Are we going to continue seeing each other? If we're not going to continue, then it's not important."

That cut him. That cut him badly. "Are you saying that you don't want to? If you just say that you want me to leave you alone, I can try and I will."

She was about to answer 'yes', but for better or for worse, she didn't. She took care now, realizing that she was hurting him exponentially. She knew that he loved her, from her answered question. But she hadn't told him how she felt, and he had a right to know. If he was willing to shut her out of his life just because of her say-so, then how far was she willing to go?"

"I…don't go. I don't want you to." She nearly let a sob escape, but its confinement didn't go unnoticed by the teenager beside her. "Stay. Please?"

"I will. As long as you want me to."

"As long as you are able to," she corrected, hinting to his likely passing at the kalends of the next month. "I'm going to miss you Keith."

"How much?"

"About as much as Juliet missed Romeo."

Keith knew the story. After Romeo believed Juliet to be dead, he drank a vial of poisoned and killed himself. When Juliet woke up soon after, she found him dead and committed suicide by stabbing herself with a dagger. "Wait a minute-"

"I love you too, Keith." She whispered demurely and bashfully.

And that was when Keith became a statue.

He was like that for several minutes before she had to shake his shoulder. But when he came back to earth, he was like:

"Oh my God…I... did I hear you right?!"

"Yes you did," she reaffirmed. "But please don't freeze up again."

"I won't. But uh, does this mean that we're like a couple, or…"

"It means that we **are** a couple."

"God, this feels awkward," Keith muttered. "I mean I thought that-"

He was interrupted as another pair of lips pressed unto his, both sets matching each other's perfectly. He relaxed into it and let the intimate act lull him into repose. Her soft lips were all he were focused on, but all too soon, it came to an end as the chaste kiss was broken.

Keith. exe had stopped responding.


	21. Chapter 21

**Ultimatum: Omniscience**

 **I'm not gonna drag this fic out. Time to fast-forward. By a** _ **lot.**_

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money (unfortunately) is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 **But as is usually the case, give credit where it's due. You know…to** _ **me**_ _ **.**_

 **21.**

Keith uneasily shifted his weight uneasily from one elbow and then to another. As he did, he felt what must have been someone glaring at him and turned to look over his shoulder. Jenna was plainly visible to him, making gestures to sit up properly. He obliged immediately with a mild blush on his face and tore his eyes once more to focus on what was going on in front of him.

It was D – Day. Now the thirtieth just yet. It was the twenty-first of June.

He was in court.

It had been a messy hour for as long as he'd been here seated in the same damn chair. He never really liked being in one place for long, but for now, he'd have to suffer in silence as his rear would soon disallow blood flow entirely.

He had thought it would have been easy. Get in, answer a question and get out, no problem. Mr. Roberts had made it sound so easy.

The man was beside him, muttering to him every now and again that the procedure that they were going through was fine, as it was typically a messier affair. If that was the case, then fine, but this would still be the worst day he'd have in his final month of life, when contrary to what people might believe, was the best month in his life.

Life had been going well…sans for his near robbery at the beginning, having to outrun stubborn people and reading warnings meant for him, tailored made for him through years and written while he was a toddler still. It had him thinking.

'Perhaps life is set in stone, after all?'

Maybe. He knew everything, (by a technicality) but he did. Perhaps if he were to ask…

Nah. Leave the questions for what they should be…never answered.

His family had grown more understanding, and all closer than they ever were than before. Although he couldn't talk anymore to people safely without putting them at risk, he was fine for settling for Lisa and Richie, his best friends. And Jenna…she was especially understanding…and a _fantastic kisser_.

He'd never been kissed before by another girl, so he had no way of knowing. But a measuring stick wasn't needed. He was 'saving' himself for the right girl, and she was 'saving' herself for the right guy. Guess it all worked out.

He was happy. Scheduled to die in nine days, but he was still happy.

"…Keith Smith to the stand." A voice droned in the background. He shook himself out of his musings and analyzed his last heard sentence. Given all he had gleaned from watching 'cop shows', he assumed that he must go and seat himself in the witness stand.

And so he did. Before he was seated, Mr. Roberts made it clear that he wished to ask the question for the last time, but he'd swear him just in case.

The Bailiff looked like he was hoping that the Judge would accept, because the swearing was a question. He was actually sweating profusely and slightly trembling and the Judge noticed, and pitied him.

"That's deemed as acceptable."

Keith was given the bible for him to lay his left palm on while he raised his right hand and nodded.

"Keith Smith." The detective stated carefully.

"Yes?" The teen responded in like.

"Swear to tell the truth, and nothing **but** the truth, so help you God."

The Judge scowled slightly at this, but it was in admiration. He did do what was demanded of him, but had avoided doing so by asking questions; instead, he did it more like an order. He gave credit where it was due.

Keith swore as he was expected to, and sat down, nervous. He could see Jenna smiling at him, and he drew strength from it by mere sight alone. He finally decided to let his Oracle state answer the question for him. It was just one anyway, and Mr. Roberts was willing to pay the price.

"Keith Smith…in detail, how did my wife, Nicoya Roberts die?" The man asked grimly.

…

…

…

Jenna for the most part, was fine about inducing the Oracle state in Keith. But she hadn't gotten used to it as yet, and may never will. However, she and the small gathering of people allowed entry to the Inquiry leaned forward as the boy's eyes seemingly rolled up into his head and he spoke in a rather unsettling monotone.

" _Nicoya Roberts, a daughter born of Kimberly Weston and Ivan Weston in the year 1980, was killed by the actions of Elizabeth Roberts-"_

Everyone could instinctively feel the temperature drop, and saw that the detective was trembling. On base instinct, everyone paid closer attention to the 'Roberts' name and wondered if it was a coincidence as the boy continued to speak.

"… _-in the year 1934. The women were in the kitchen of the Roberts home, Elizabeth was a recent arrive. Nicoya was preparing a fairly extravagant dinner for you, Vincent Roberts, in the effort of celebration. Her period was late, and she believed that she had finally gotten pregnant, at what's considered late and extremely rare at the age of thirty-eight. She, in actuality, was, given from the knowledge of my present Omniscience. The ways of the world would have regarded as a passing incident with no merit, but she had been. She was to be with child."_

Everyone felt a harrowing feeling, practically able to imagine a happy wife waiting to break the news. The Judge, being the only one other from Keith to face him could see the tears forming in the man's eyes; no doubt, the news about his wife being pregnant at the time of her death was hitting him harder than just the knowledge of her death alone. But he was still focused on the name of his wife's killer. He was _dying_ to hear this explanation.

" _Elizabeth Roberts happened by to see her son, Vincent Roberts. A degeneration of a mind was a sad thing, as she had temporarily forgotten that her son was on duty. Alzheimer's had addled her mind to such a degree that she could be legally considered an amnesiac at times. Her memory came and went in bouts. Unfortunately, when she happened on in the house, her memory was not with her and she did not recognize her own daughter in law."_

Everyone gasped as they finally grasped the missing piece. It upset everyone present to learn that the killer was actually the mother of the detective himself. Life was cruel to the man. But-

" _She did not kill Nicoya, as I've said before. But her actions made her largely responsible. Walking into the kitchen where the wife was, Elizabeth took a knife from a table behind her and tried to attack her with it, convinced that the person before her was someone who broke into her son's house. However, this was not to be, as Nicoya heard the elder woman's grunt of effort. She barely escaped the attempt on her life, but she was able to wrestle the knife from her mother in law. Unfortunately, in her effort to disarm her, and the grease from her cooking that resided on the floor just behind her, she slipped and accidentally toppled on the knife. It mattered not if anyone else had been around; the blade had passed through and pierced her heart. She passed on within minutes."_

All those who were present were all feeling empathetic to the detective; mainly that of sympathy, and condolences. But Keith **still** wasn't finished.

" _Elizabeth finally came to from her episode and regarded the scene with horror. She herself could recall that while she had attacked, she hadn't killed her daughter in law. But the guilt was too much for her to bear. Recalling that her son was among the best of the best at what he does, she tried to call to mind how and what people would check for evidence. She used bleach and sanitary napkins to clean all that she had touched and left the home, hoping and praying that her failing memory that had damned her would evict the memory of her actions. She in actuality had gotten her wish, but that was due to the fact that she neglected to take her medication that night."_

Keith's nature switched now, coming back to full consciousness of the present. He saw the varied looks of everyone before him, but none shook him harder than the sight of the detective with tears streaming down his face. He tried to call to mind what he had said, but while he had forgotten most of the details, he still remembered what the fundamentals were.

"Mr. Roberts…I'm sorry."

 **Extra .5k to this chapter, huh? Hope y'all liked it. I should be done in two more chapters.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Ultimatum: Omniscience**

 **I hope to wrap this up soon.**

 **I own this.**

 **22.**

It had been a disaster.

The detective stated that his mother had passed on four years prior…he had buried her himself. There was nothing that could be done. With that, the case had to be declared closed, but the heartbroken man still knew no closure.

Those were his problems. Keith though, had his own.

Someone had apparently leaked information about the inquiry, and as of consequence, Keith had to be immediately shipped to his yard under the most unrelenting security the man of the police force could offer. Needless to say, the man actually had to have rubber bullets come into play to disperse the thick crowds.

That didn't stop people of power and influence to come after him, and it got so bad with death threats buzzing around and overly-muscled men sent to his, friends and girlfriend's house to cause trouble that Keith got fed up.

 _June 29_

Keith finally came back online and he wasn't all that surprised when he saw that his email account had more than a just few hundred thousand emails. He also checked out his social networks and found an insane amount of messages; before, he would have killed to be even a bit more popular, but now, he realized that he'd much rather to just be a hermit who's gone off the grid.

Life was funny sometimes, he thought to himself as he sighed. But he had to do something. He needed to do like so many people did.

Make an internet video.

…

…

…

Readying his camera on his laptop, he checked himself for the last time to see if anything was out of place on his person. The whole world was going to see this; he needed to look his best. He once more read the script that he had done up and when all was said and done, started recording, keeping in mind to sound casual, on a level everyone could be comfortable with.

"Hey everyone," he started, chasing away the nervousness that had tried to reside within him. He knew that he could edit anything he wanted later or needs be, re-record so he had nothing to fear. "It's the guy who supposedly knows everything."

He let that pause for a second for effect as he pressed on. "I'm Keith Smith, and I'm the Oracle this year, for the month of June. It's the 29th and I'm set to die tomorrow. I'm going to be frank with you; all of you are too damn curious for your own good. Hear me out. I was on my laptop close to the start of the month trying to find out more about what I am and I bumbled unto a website that had a warning from the Oracle of 2006. The Oracle, Cynthia her name was, made out a warning to me not to answer five different, yet powerful questions. Questions like 'What is the true religion and/or God?' Is that really a question you'd want answered?"

He knew he was already in the deep end, but knew he had to continue. "Imagine…everyone who were of a different religion, all in an instant, finds out who was correct, or find out that they were all wrong. Is that a chance you'd be willing to take? The person who finds out that they were right become snobbish, and the persons who discover themselves to be wrong and realize that they'll have to change their very way of life to adapt to an entirely new governance that determines how they live their lives. The answer, I'm sure, will upset far more than just most of the world. It's like a multiple choice question, but none of the answers provided were correct in the first place. Or if it is, it's the answer almost everyone had thought to be wrong. My answer? Worship the God who you believe is the right one. Don't believe in any religion? Agnostic? Atheist? You're already believing that there is no God to speak of. You believe in something. You have faith that there isn't any. Fine. You try to convince others that there aren't any, and worshippers of a god will try to convince you that there is one. Imagine now that you find out that the other from what you believe in is right. What benefit is that? You find out that you were of the right belief. You already thought that you were of the right faith to be in it in the first place…why need me to tell you?"

He sighed. Everything else to follow was sure to be easier than this.

"What's the meaning of life? You're getting confused. You're actually asking 'what's the meaning of _your_ life', _specifically_. You're supposed to be trying to live it and find out. What, you're going to lose ten years' worth of it just to hear the answer? What if you don't like the answer? You'll be shocked to learn that you just wasted ten years of your life for a disappointing answer. What if you like the answer? You'll then be disappointed to learn that you lost ten years of what would be a good thing. This is another question with no safe answer."

"'When/if there's an apocalypse and who/what causes it'. This is a question with a dumb answer. If there's an apocalypse, why would you want to know the date? So you can start living in fear of it? So that everything demolishes itself before it happens? What if I told you a date, and all of those who listen decided to just don't bother with work, forget responsibilities or decided what is the point if we're all going to die. One of those people could be those who controls the monitoring of a doomsday nuclear weapon. He quits his responsibility of monitoring it, and it goes off, creating the apocalypse. See where I'm going with this? This is a **dumb** question."

He shifted in his chair to lean closer to the camera. "'What happens after death'. Who cares? Death is the end of living. Death is not a process. It's a finality. Look at my face. I'm going to die tomorrow. I'm just a high school student who had my whole life ahead of me to look forward to. I know the exact time I'll be, as my friend Richie says, 'kicking the bucket'. Do I look worried? Feel free to make your guesses and assumptions."

"And for the last one…'which country will be the next superpower'. I could tell you the answer online so everyone could start infusing their money into that country to increase its standing. Hmm…what the poorest country I know?" He asked with a smirk before he scowled. "That's our problem. We're all focused on just making money, and working only when it suits you. When I was going on a simple date, my and I girlfriend tried to race each other just to make it to the door of the restaurant, just for each of us to attempt to hold the door for each other. Or when my mother and my sister met each other in a narrow passageway and both stopped to go to one side and gave each other the right of way to pass. Granted, that can cause a sort of stalemate, but with all this knowledge locked up in my head, I still have to wonder why everyone can't be like that. Everyone putting each other first."

He was winding down, and prepared for another point. "Ah, Life. Everyone has a purpose. If only everyone just played their part, and quit taking time out of their busy schedule just to threaten a sixteen year old who knows every wrong thing they ever did. Not really wise, is it? Emails. I've beginning making out emails to the nearest precincts closest to the bastards who think they can threaten me to talk. Wouldn't the police love to know what skeletons you have in your closet? And even if you don't, who's to say that someone close to you won't be getting off? This-" He pointed at his head, "is the largest cache of blackmail ever, and I'm not ashamed to talk of it, nor am I scared to use it."

His grim moment now over, he started smiling. "I guess that's it. Thanks for hearing me ramble. Valete."

He quit the recording and sighed. 'Damn, what a info-dump. And that bluff! I sure hope it works. In the meantime, I gotta see if Jenna can come over…' he peeked through the window and saw a crowd. '…tomorrow. Tomorrow is the last. Feh, the epilogue of my life. It'd better be good.'

 **Yeah, me too. Another chapter with an extra .5k. I hope I surpass myself, and I hope you liked the foreshadowing I did with Keith at the end. Is that like a Fourth Wall Break? I try to put one or two in every (ambitious) fic I do.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Ultimatum: Omniscience**

 **This is it, everyone. The final chapter. It's been a good run, lasted too long in terms of updating streak since publishing it 'til now, and with all of its warts, I'm proud of it.  
I still intend on making new Ultimatums, and if you haven't already, please check out my other ones. Like Doom CONTROL(er). I recommend it!  
Thanks.**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money (unfortunately) is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 _ **~Who are you to change this world?  
Silly boy! No one needs to hear your words,  
Let it go!~  
Extract lyrics from 'Carnivore' by Starset.**_

 **23\. (Epilogue)**

"They've left you alone, huh? I guess they took it to heart."

"They have. Thanks."

"Anyway, I need to get home. I have a lot of emails to do up. And before you try to figure out an indirect question to find out why, I'm sending them to everyone in my personal circle. You know, family, friends… _you_." His arm was already around her shoulders and he pulled her in closer to him, whereupon he tapped his forehead on hers tenderly and then crossed noses with a slow, cheerful laugh. "There's a 'send to many' option, and a 'send later' option too."

"Hmm..." Jenna peered up to his face. "I can't imagine why you'd need that one." She said carefully, heeding that she can't ask him questions. She was now fancying herself a pro at 'asking' statements.

"Jenna, I'm…Omniscient now. I know everything. I can feel it." He mumbled softly. "I'm going to send everyone messages…and you'll get messages on days I want to talk to you. Speak to you about certain topics, give some advice…maybe even spoil endings for certain things, just to keep you on your toes."

"Keith…you…know everything without being asked. Like Cynthia back in 2006." She stated it more as a fact rather than a question. Those were particularly risky.

"Yeah. I have a feeling that my typing is going to get much more efficient. I need a few hours to myself. I'll be back out by exactly a quarter past six."

"Hmm…that is really three hours. I guess in the meantime, I've gotta get ready too."

 **=X=X=**

 _He typed, he typed, he typed. Omniscience ran through his veins and every bit and fraction of his entirety like life-blood, and he typed._

 _He did, he did, he did._

 _He knew everything that had ever happened and he knew everything that will happen. He also knew all that could have ever happened, and everything that could ever happen. Everything that was of this existence, of this perception of time, beings that are not of the human species…_

 _EVERYTHING._

 _It was easy._

 _As his fingers glided along the keyboard even faster than the records set by touch typing, no doubt a blessing of perfect knowledge of timing of the taps of the keys and their location, he knew that what he was doing would benefit them all. They'd receive their messages._

 _They'd get messages while he rested in his coffin, reading his own created epitaph._

 _They'd get messages when faced with death of their kin._

 _They'd get messages when they needed advice._

 _They'd get messages on days they missed him._

 _They'd get messages when they wanted to know which college to apply to._

 _They'd get messages on days they'd marry._

 _They'd get messages on what they needed to avoid._

 _They'd get messages on what they needed to embrace._

 _They'd get messages. They will._

 _It was what he could do for them. His whole life had purpose after all… he was bettering their lives, even while he rotted away into dust in the earth. He loved them so much._

 **=X=X=**

All the emails were done in, and with the correct steps taken, they'd all go through when and on the days they were needed. He also hand-wrote a few letters and left them in his room, knowing that they'd soon be read. On the day after it all.

Words of encouragement.

Words of good cheer.

Words of love.

When all that was said and done, he reached for his cellphone and punched in the numbers for Cynthia's family. He still needed to call them. She did ask him to tell them of her love for them, and in spite of all things done, he felt happy about it.

" _Hello? This is Keith Smith, this year's Oracle. I'm calling for Cynthia…"_

 **=X=X=**

He came down at the time he had told her. He wasn't surprised to see that they had set up what was like a Send-Off Party for him, and they all wore sad-looking smiles. "I knew that a surprise party wouldn't throw you off, so I told everyone to just be cool about it."

"I still appreciate it, Teresa. Thanks." He regarded them all and saw his family, Jenna, Mr. Roberts, Lisa and Richie. He was forced to recollect the night they won the lottery, and that was the last time they all gathered like this. Hey, what is this? A funeral? Everyone lighten up! Jenna, could you turn on the music please? Lisa, pass the chips."

 **=X=X=**

"And then…he says 'yeah, one hundred percent'."

Everyone got the joke immediately and laughed so hard that tears of mirth ran down their cheeks. "Really?" Mr. Roberts chortled.

"Absolutely. And that's a joke that gets really popular next year. The one that's almost as funny are the people who tell others 'Merry Christmas when next it comes', only the day after it."

"That would be a whole year away!" Mrs. Smith laughed out loud. She then glanced at the clock and saw that it was ten five minutes before midnight. No one missed her polar change in behavior, and everyone noticed the time as well. The air grew silent, and Keith gathered himself. It was time.

"Son, I-"

"Mom. I already know everything that you could possibly want to say, and trust me, we don't have that kind of time for filibustering."

"And that means…"

"It means drawing something out purposefully, basically, like speeches," Jenna and Teresa offered at the same time.

"Yeah. Or I could consult some great dictionary in my head and tell you everything you could never need to hear about a word."

"Hey, man, enough of that. Ugh, I wish we had more time, y'know," Richie tried to put on a bravado.

"Tough guy." Keith shook his head. "I'm fine, and you all should be too. Anyway, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. I made out some letters and emails to all of you, so get prepared for some long, one-sided conversations in the future."

"Typical," Lisa rolled her eyes and smirked. "The guy with every scrap of info in his head must have a lot to talk about."

"Mom, Dad? You're gonna fail when it comes to your pensions. I've left you perfect stock option advice in the next twenty years, which, if you follow my instructions, will leave you well-funded up until… you know, don't need it anymore. But it'll still benefit your grandchildren." He then turned from them and spoke to everyone in turn. "Teresa, it's not your fault I'm an Oracle. I was just awesome enough to get the job in the first place. Lisa, no matter how rich you've just turned, go to college, and stay away from drugs. Richie, the girl who catches your eye at a Masquerade New Year's Eve party year after next in the town square? Stay away from her, she's a hooker and a drug addict. Go for the brunette you see trying to drink herself drunk at the bar. Stick with her. Trust me."

"O…k…" His friends answered unsurely. "Alright."

"Mr. Roberts? I'm sorry for your loss. I can't tell you much, but just know that in another alternate reality, your mother didn't go ballistic in your home, but actually on a public bus that results in a car crash that kills over a dozen people. Maybe…think of it as a personal sacrifice? Just don't bury yourself in your work and turn suicidal after getting remarried to a liquor bottle. I mean it."

"This is some heavy shi-…" He trailed off when he saw the boy's glare. "Fine."

The Oracle finally turned to his girlfriend who had been waiting patiently. "Jenna?"

She nodded, afraid to answer.

"Walk with me."

So she did, a slow walk in a definite house; out of the room, up the stairs, along the hallway and to the entry of his room. He knew that time was running out.

"Jenna, I'm gonna be frank. After all of this, I still don't know what you saw in a guy like me," he deadpanned. She was about to speak up, but he continued. "Well, I know what you're going to say, and I really never fancied myself as charming, funny, caring, appreciative, decent-looking-"

"Humble," she interjected. "And enough of other good words to fill a Thesaurus."

He looked up to his forehead. "In other avenues of time and space, other Keith Smiths who never became Oracles never got to be with you. They lacked the ability to just tell you how they felt, and you never knew."

"I wanted to why you wanted to leave me at the library to return home, after you said it was for my own good. I asked why you were worried for me, and you told me that it was because you loved me. The most blunt confession I've ever heard."

"I do. This is why I don't regret being an Oracle. I'll love you right up until the minute I die…which is in another 67 seconds-"

"Don't…please don't turn into Richie, making some morbid joke," The girl begged. In an effort to comfort her, he pulled her into an embrace, but she wanted more. He didn't want to deny her and like the first time, she was the first to start a kiss that seared his lips and boiled the crimson in his veins. And ever so slowly, the dam that he had built against his feelings broke, leaving him crying, even while they shared an intimate act. The broiling waterworks ran down his cheeks, even as he felt his existence about to falter and flicker out like a dying flame.

He had to cut it short, and gently eased her away from him. "Jenna?" He moaned out loud. "I…I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Is that going to be…a promise that you can keep-"

"I promise." He used the back of his hand to wipe away the tears that illustrated to all that she was already grieving. Reaching into his hip pocket, he pulled out a sheet of notebook paper and handed it to her. She took it from him, all the while wondering what it was. "'Bye, Jen."

She tried to stay strong, but it was getting harder by the second, knowing that her significant other won't be getting up in the morning, to greet her, meet up with her, to hold her hand, to whisper sweet nonsense with each other or to even meld with each other. "'Bye, Keith. Later."

"Later." He turned to enter his room and while he did, she looked at the paper and gasped.

"The…the _true_ answers to the five questions?"

He closed the door, a knowing look on his face. He knew that she'd burn it after reading, but she'd keep the vital knowledge. She'd realize that the answers weren't that important, but the questions had far more value, as the answers were different for everybody.

Those answers were for her eyes only.

He had less than half a minute, but he didn't care. He kicked off his shoes and placed them at the foot of his bed and laid there on top. He let his eyes close, and he let the infinite erudition of All Existence course through his mind for the last time. A peaceful smile was on his face as he exhaled for the last time; his season was over, and he was prepared to welcome when next it arrived. A new one.

A better one.

 **And done. 2k. Yeah, I get really existential when I'm half-tired or when I'm barely keeping my eyes open. I hope you enjoyed the fic as much as I did thinking/planning/writing/typing/posting it up for others to read. You could have wasted your time elsewhere, but you chose to waste it here. I'm touched.**

 **I hope I made that last scene poignant and realist enough for you all to appreciate, but let it be known that as a human, I cannot make or give you answers to those questions. I have opinions. NOT facts.**

 **Valete omnes/ Goodbye everyone,**

 **MRAY 4TW/ M. Ray for the win.**

 **Take care.**


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